


How to be a Heartbreaker

by justrae2010



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan, Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: ALL THE ANGST, Alternate Universe, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Bottom Katsuki Yuuri, Cadet!Yuuri, Captain!Victor, Death, Explicit Sexual Content, Forbidden Love, Heavy Angst, I'm Sorry, Love Confessions, M/M, Making Out, Makkachin Lives, Minor Character Death, Oral Sex, Panic Attacks, Rings, Semi-Public Sex, Serious Injuries, Shower Sex, Top Victor Nikiforov, Violence, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-18
Updated: 2018-04-12
Packaged: 2018-11-15 19:32:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 81,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11237709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justrae2010/pseuds/justrae2010
Summary: Yuuri Katsuki has looked up to Captain Victor Nikiforov for years. So when his idol saves him while out on his first mission with the scouts, it’s both the best and the worst thing to happen to him. He never thought he’d see Victor again after that. He certainly never thought he’d see him in the showers for his barracks...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I love the Attack on Titan universe but I’m not super clued up on the details or the backstory that comes from the manga. If there are little discrepancies or errors that can be changed and still make sense to the story, let me know. If they can’t, then just…pretend.

Yuuri Katsuki was a good student. A brilliant student. He did wonderfully in his classes - top marks in the classrooms and above average in his practical training, through sheer stamina and resilience mostly. He was good.

But the field was nothing like the classroom.

Yuuri wracked his brain desperately like his life depended on it - only this time it did; three seven foot titans stared down at him backed up against the tree with blood thirsty eyes.

 _Think, dammit_ , he willed desperately, as his heart thudded uncontrollably in his chest at his impending death. A bead of sweat ran down the side of his forehead. He must have learned something to help him escape, done some kind of drill…

It was hopeless though, even if he had. His mind was too frantic, too scattered to form any kind of focussed thought in that moment, let alone revisit each lesson in his three year training for something useful to save his skin. Breaths came in short, sharp bursts, less and less oxygen reaching his dwindling brain cells by the second. He was panicking, and it was going to be the end of him.

He never would have been there if he’d just remembered to double check the fuel gage on his ODM gear before they’d set out though. One mistake, and now he was stuck in the middle of the forest while his comrades battled around him, stranded on the ground with an empty tank. He knew better than that. He really did. But it was his first mission outside the walls and he’d been nervous, hands fumbling as he’d fixed his gear, trying to remember everything before the gates had lifted and his brain had short circuited. It was a rookie mistake, one that had left him practically helpless.

“Yuuri!”

He heard Phichit’s voice but it was too far away. It would never reach him before the Titan’s fingers lunged forward.

His hands switched to the scabbard of his blade but he knew it wouldn't do him any good now. Cold sweat gathered at the base of his neck, watching his impending doom loom in on him. His heart was in his mouth. He was going to die …

Titan bodies crashed against the tree trunk. Yuuri didn’t hesitate, throwing himself forward. He moved fast, diving under their legs and leaping over their reaching fingers, but it was only delaying the inevitable unless he could get in the air. His blade slashed and blood spurted, teeth gritted in determination. It was better than crying - not that he had much conscious choice about it in that moment. Adrenaline drove him, instinct pulling at his gut.

Something slammed into his side, sweeping him off the ground and knocking the breath out of him.

And his blade.

It wasn't Titan fingers curled around his middle though, he quickly realised. It was a human arm; strong and lean, with trembling fingers in fingerless leather gloves clinging to him as they soared through the air.

Behind him, Yuuri heard the crash of breaking bark from where he'd been just seconds before.

The flash of green and silver caught his eye and his fingers clung to the scout cloak whirling around him, hauling himself up. He didn't want to fall. Not now.

Suddenly something solid skidded under his feet but he slammed into the tree trunk before he had enough bearings to slow himself. He cried out when his shoulder made contact. He dropped to his knees at the sickening crunch of bone grinding against bone, but there was no snap. No break. Then he would really have been in trouble. He dropped to his knees, breathless. Wide eyes stared down at the Titan laden ground beneath him, unable to believe he was still alive to see it.

The branch they stood on was just out of reach of the Titans grasp, but he knew they wouldn't be safe for long. The monsters would figure it out soon enough. Then they'd be running for their lives again.

His fingers curled against the bark. It was cowardly. Running. But how many people had already died that day? A lot, the world below a lot thinner of humans than when they had arrived and wet with blood. The rest of them would have to turn back soon, Yuuri thought. Before the whole squad got wiped out. Before he got killed too.

But that wasn’t his call to make. He pushed himself up to his feet, fists curled at his side. His rescuer stood at the tip of the branch.

Yuuri’s breath caught. Short, wavy silver hair blew in the breeze with his cloak, stood at the edge of the branch with his blade drawn. His eyes stared down at the chaos beneath them, and even though Yuuri couldn't see them, he could sense they were focused with intent. He knew they were bright blue, like a wildfire of diamond. The fingers of his spare hand fumbled at the pouch at his belt without looking, tossing Yuuri a small canister.

Fuel.

He caught it effortlessly and made quick work restoring his OBM gear, breathing a sigh of relief as it whirred subtly back to life. Out there, it really was the difference between life and death.

“There.” His saviour’s sharp voice barked, though somehow still as smooth and sweet as honey. He glanced over his shoulder.

Yuuri had been right about his eyes.

Alert pools of crisp swirling aquamarine pinned him in place, as if they could see right through him, framed with long dark eyelashes. There was the tiniest of scars between his eye and ear, short and thin just above his right cheek, the old wound healed over just a shade paler than the rest of the his otherwise perfect, porcelain skin. His short grey hair moved with the breeze at the back of his head, bangs at the front rolling over his left eye.

Yuuri recognised him in a heartbeat - Captain Victor Nikiforov. The reason he’d joined the scouts in the first place. Yuuri had dreamed of the day he would finally get to meet him, practicing what he would say down to the very last word.

The blaze in Victor’s eyes wasn't in the mood for talking though.

He was everything Yuuri thought he would be: rage and hellfire, wrapped in the body of a man that nearly glowed with beauty. The blade in his hand dripped with Titan blood and the look in his eyes was almost feral, blown with the primal desire to kill until he was the last thing standing.

Yuuri felt a ripple of fear jolt through him pressing himself firmer against the tree trunk before he realised what he was doing.

Those blazing eyes scorched a trail over him, measuring him up and down. Victor lingered ever so slightly longer on his face than Yuuri expected. It wasn't something he'd dwell on, Yuuri was sure - there was no way Victor Nikiforov would remember him, after all. Yuuri was small, and plain, and forgettable. Sure enough, Victor's gaze rolled away half a second later, back to the madness unfurling below.

He had vanished before YuurI had finished his next blink, crouching low and leaping back into the sea of blood and violence below.

 

* * *

 

By some miracle, Yuuri made it back alive.

His spoon dug grimly into his food in the cafeteria cabin, pushing the potatoes round the bowl but not actually eating anything. He didn't feel hungry - the scouts had faced losses of fifty per cent on that last excursion.

So many people had died, friends, brothers and comrades. Those who came back were just grateful to still be breathing, knowing the chances of them doing so again after their next mission were significantly reduced now. Everything was going wrong. So many lives lost in pursuit of claiming back their world, something that seemed more like just a child’s fantasy than a real-world goal with every passing day.

It was all his fault, he thought, knuckles white with the grip he held around his spoon. If only he'd been stronger - better! - perhaps he would have been able to kill more, save more, make a difference….

Instead he'd been rescued by the most decorated Captain alive and had killed a grand total of zero Titans.

“I thought you were a gonner back there.” Phichit said from across the table. He'd made it back too.

Yuuko had survived as well, but she hadn't been in the mood for eating, going straight to her bunk. Yuuri half wished he'd had the same idea.

His mind flashed back to that moment in the forest where he'd nearly lost his life before his idol had saved him. Phichit would never have reached him in time, he understood now. Without Victor, he would have been killed for sure.

 _He must think I'm a total idiot_ , Yuuri thought bitterly.

He couldn't make the same mistakes again. He'd been careless with his fuel, hadn't been able to slay any Titans with his squad mates and it had cost the team lives.

Yuuri wondered what would have happened to Victor. He was so fast, what Titan could have caught him? Maybe he'd run out of fuel from the speed. Or perhaps he'd just been overwhelmed. Maybe he'd made a mistake. So many things could have happened, and one wrong move was all the opportunity the Titans needed to snatch you out of the air. Then you were dead.

His spirits sunk lower just thinking about it. “Yeah, me too.” He mumbled unenthusiastically.

There was no way Victor Nikiforov was dead.

Word would have spread if he was and more importantly, Yuuri had seen his blood stained silver hair catch the light of the sun as he'd led the survivors back to the wall. Victor was alive. Probably wishing for a better team than the likes of Yuuri Katsuki.

“Have you checked the list?”

The list of the dead. Yuuri could feel it burning into his back from the wall across the room.

Yuuri's mouth twisted in a grimace. “No.”

A part of him didn't want to know. He wasn't sure he wanted to know how many of his childhood friends were lost, how many cadets he'd trained with had met their sticky end. Phichit was here. Yuuko was here. He couldn't ask for much more than that.

He'd watched people get snatched out of the sky right in front of him, heard the dying screams of those he'd laughed with over the breakfast table just earlier that same morning. Minami had been one of them. That stung. The only consolation was that he hadn't suffered, crushed by accident under a fallen Titan when his OBM gear had jammed - probably before he'd even realized anything was wrong. It still didn't make it okay though. Like Yuuri had joined the scouts for Victor, he knew Minami had joined the scouts for him, following him with round, bug eyes that Yuuri couldn't bear to think about now.

He pushed away his bowl, knocking it against Phichit’s. “I'm done.” He said, standing up from the bench. His eyes were low. “You have it.”

Yuuko had been right - food wasn’t what he needed right now. In fact, Yuuri wasn’t sure what it was that he needed. He just couldn’t stop thinking about Minami, feeling the young cadet’s name burn from the list of the dead across the room like it was screaming at Yuuri. It was his fault he had been out there. It was his fault he was dead.

Nobody stopped him as he trudged to the door.

Eyes stared ahead blankly as his legs carried him… where? Not to his bunk. He crossed the dark yard, moonlight shining brightly in the starry sky above, knowing he should take the time to stop, look, and savour it - be grateful to be alive - but he couldn’t think. Not about that.

It should have been him.

That was all he could think about. It should have been him - not Minami.

Numb fingers unclipped his harness from across his chest and it hit the floor with a click. A click? Yuuri blinked, and realised he wasn’t outside anymore.

A door shut loudly behind him and Yuuri jumped, a strangled yelp tearing through his throat. It took a few seconds for his eyes to adjust. When they did, they drank in bench lined walls, hooks on the walls and tiled floors… showers. He was in the showers. A frown furrowed his brow; why here? They’d all showered when they’d first gotten back from the mission, washing away the grime and blood like it would somehow dull the pain.

The water had run red and Yuuri had stared at the blood swirling down the drain like it was taking his sanity with it, like he was staring into Hell itself. He hadn’t felt clean. He’d just felt like he was drowning in more ways than one.

So why was he back? More drowning? More suffering? Yuuri wasn’t sure, but it didn’t stop him shrugging his jacket off his shoulders and letting it slump on the bench, dragging himself forward to the slightly ajar door to the shower cubicles. Everything was quiet, empty. Nobody else was drowning in guilt the same way he was.

He didn’t bother stripping any more of his clothes as he wandered half way through the showers, nipping into a random cubicle to his right. His footsteps were silent, even with his boots still on.

It took three attempts to twist the shower knob enough to start the water. Yuuri’s fingers couldn’t stop fumbling, his eyes blurred with tears and his glasses fogged with the lingering humidity in the shower rooms. He was a mess. When the water finally splattered down over his face - matting his wet hair over his forehead and dotting the lens of his glasses - Yuuri felt something inside him break.

His first sob seemed to echo around the showers. It bounced off the tiles and ran his knees weak at the sound, bracing his forearm against the wall and leaning into the warm torrent of water. His lip quivered. His eyes scrunched. His cheeks ached. More cries ached behind his rib cage but this time no sound came out, trapped with the screaming inside his head. Was that his screaming or Minami’s? Or any of the other soldiers? Yuuri’s hand slapped at the shower dial until the water ran louder, touching his forehead against the wet sleeve of his shirt against the wall.

The material clung to his skin, shirt see through now it was wet. He knew he looked just as vulnerable on the outside as he felt on the inside, stripped bare with his emotions, ready to be taken apart. His body trembled, muscles quivering in a way he didn’t understand. He’d never felt like this before.

His tears mingled with the shower water until he couldn’t tell them apart. Maybe that was why he’d gone there…

_Clatter._

Yuuri’s eyes snapped open.

He shut the shower off quickly and froze, sobs stilling and ears pricking for sound. What was that noise? The showers were supposed to be empty.

He hadn’t bothered to check for company when he’d come in but there hadn’t been any clothes at the benches and no water had been running, so he had just assumed… wrong. He’d assumed wrong. A lump caught in Yuuri’s throat as he slowly turned in his cubicle, wincing when his socks squelched slightly in his boots. _Fuck._

There was still no sound. No water running. No voices. No footsteps. Everything was silent. But Yuuri was sure he had heard something - not just the distant screams of the dying in his head - something real. Hard. Plastic? Something that clattered sharply when it hit the tiles. Metal? Who would bring something metal to the showers? Yuuri guessed he wasn’t exactly one to talk as he stood there drenched in nearly his full military gear, water dripping in front of his face from the tips of his sodden hair.

The blood pounded in his ears as he stepped out of his cubicle with slow, measured steps like a hunter stalking his prey. There was someone there. He could feel it. Something primal sparked in his system and he felt the hairs on his arms raise in alarm. He wasn’t alone.

He stared down the length of the showers, gaze scouring the cubicles either side of him. Each one had a loose curtain covering that had been tucked to the side once the showers had been emptied and they were still in place. Whoever was there hadn’t cared about privacy. By rights, they shouldn’t need to - nobody else was supposed to be there. It was just bad luck, bad timing.

And Yuuri wasn’t in the mood to share.

Each step betrayed him, water squelching in his boots and alerting his comrade to his ever nearing presence. Yuuri wasn’t sure what he’d do when he’d find them. Scream? Shout? Cry?

His hackles were raised even if his heart still felt shattered. He wanted to be alone, didn’t want anybody else to see him like this. Anybody would think he was crazy. Maybe he was crazy. Could you lose your mind after just one mission beyond the walls? Everybody else seemed to hold it together so well. Victor Nikiforov hadn’t even blinked when he’d swept in and saved Yuuri earlier; always perfect, always in control no matter how many missions he led. Yuuri needed to be more like him. As hard as steel. Strong and untouchable.

And naked.

Yuuri blinked back to the shower room and his lips parted in shock. Victor was there. In the showers. Victor was _there._

He was on the left side, stood in the middle of the dry cubicle with his clothes and boots scattered around him, but no water. He hadn’t turned on the shower yet, Yuuri realised. The more he looked at the Captain, the more he wondered whether Victor even _could_ turn on the shower. His beautiful blue eyes glittered wide and stunned, staring dead ahead but not seeing anything. There was none of the merciless wrath from earlier, none of the control. He looked like his heart had stopped.

Yuuri only knew because his literally had, watching the same horror he felt morph on Victor’s face in front of him as he blinked and _saw_ Yuuri at last. What was that expression? Pain? Regret? Had he hurt himself in the field? Or was he just guilty that he'd saved someone like Yuuri instead of those countless other soldiers who had deserved to come home more than he had? Like Minami…

He was naked. His silver bangs dropped down his cheek, wavy and crusted with dried blood. Sweat glistened over the toned planes of his chest, the strong muscles of his shoulders, and red stained the corner of his mouth where his lip had split. It was fresh.

Yuuri's eyes darted down before he could help it and fire instantly fled across his cheeks, gaze snapping to the ceiling just a second too late.

Not before he’d seen _everything._

He heard Victor gulp more than he saw it, but his traitorous vision caught the bob of the captain’s Adam’s apple out of the corner of his eye. Yuuri’s mouth ran dry. _Oh god._

He should go. He should leave and run around the cabins for a few hours - leave Victor alone for his shower - but his body wouldn’t move frozen in place. Victor seemed the same. It was a stalemate, one that was crushing Yuuri more and more with every second. Tears pricked at his eyes and he chewed the inside of his cheek to keep them at bay. _I’m sorry_ , he wanted to say. He should have done more for the Captain. If Yuuri had just remembered his fuel, he wouldn’t have needed saving and Victor could have saved someone else. Could have saved Minami, maybe.

Victor’s mouth hung open too, but just like Yuuri, no words came out. What was there to say? Everything was a mess. One huge mess. Yuuri’s captain hated him and would probably put him on the front line of the next mission just to get rid of him quickly and _accidentally,_ and-

Cold lips smashed against Yuuri’s before he could finish his thought.

He yelped into Victor’s mouth.

Hands grabbed him roughly. One was firm around his bicep and yank Yuuri against Victor’s soft naked body, fingers losing themselves in the thick tangles of his wet hair. Victor kissed like he fought; holding nothing back, fierce and driving, tongue dominating Yuuri's like he needed him more than he needed air to breathe. His eyes were fluttered shut, surrendering everything he had to Yuuri, to wrapping his arms tight around him…

It took a minute for Yuuri’s brain to catch up. When it did, he sighed shakily into Victor’s mouth, hand moving to the back of Victor’s shoulder. To pull him off? To pull him close? Yuuri wasn’t sure.

Victor was beautiful.

Eyelashes fanned out over his blood tainted cheeks, the crimson a stark comparison against the marble paleness of his skin. The tension in his brow had smoothed away. Muscles jumped under the smooth skin of his back. His lips pressed against Yuuri’s with an intensity that took Yuuri’s breath away and his fingers cradled Yuuri’s head close like there was nothing he needed more than the length of Yuuri’s body pressed against his.

Yuuri could feel every firm ridge of Victor’s solid abs through the thin material of his damp shirt, practically able to feel the thump of the captain’s racing heartbeat through his chest. Or was that his own?

He didn’t understand what was happening. Well, _what_ was happening was obvious, but _how_ and _why…_ Captain Victor Nikiforov was _kissing_ him.

And worse, Yuuri could feel his body responding.

Of course, it would be. Yuuri had dreamt of Victor Nikiforov for the last seven years and knew that he admired the captain way beyond what a polite cadet should. He was _Victor Nikiforov!_ He was beautiful, he was deadly, and he had looked like a god when he’d saved Yuuri all those years ago, blood splattered in his hair and sunshine bouncing off him while he stood on the ruined remains of Yuuri’s family home, bangs fluttering in the breeze. Yuuri would never forget it, and he would never forget this. Whatever this way. However impossible it had to be.

When Yuuri finally closed his mouth and built up the courage to push his lips back against the Captain’s, he swore he heard Victor whine. The fingers in his hair twitched.

“I thought I’d lost you,” sighed against Yuuri’s mouth, softer than he’d ever heard the Captain.

This wasn’t the man that slayed, and stayed as composed as polished marble - the man clinging to him was a man barely holding it together, needing something solid to hold on to. Or someone. Victor Nikiforov was crumbling in front of him.

It only made Yuuri fall in love with him even more.

He didn’t understand Victor’s words but it wasn’t a surprise. His brain wasn’t working properly. All he could process was the melodic sound of Victor’s voice, the firmness of his body and the soft tresses of his hair as Yuuri reached up to lose his fingers in it like he’d always dreamed. He hadn’t started this, but he was damned sure he wasn’t going to waste it. He would take what he could and give everything he had to this man until Victor pushed him away.

Victor didn’t push though - he pulled. Hands fisted in the wet material of Yuuri’s shirt and dragged him across the shower, turning them until Yuuri’s back hit the wall with a slap. Seconds later, the shirt was nothing but torn shreds in Victor’s fingers.

Yuuri groaned against Victor’s mouth as cool palms pressed against his skin - still warm from the shower water - and roamed up and around his neck and down around his waist. It was better than he’d imagined.

Mere inches of space had ghosted between them while Victor explored Yuuri’s torso, but Yuuri couldn’t bear the distance. It felt like a million miles. That and the softening kisses, Victor’s lips slowing leisurely against his instead of his hungry attack from moments ago… was Victor changing his mind? Yuuri’s heart skipped a beat as he realised just how much he didn’t want this to end.

His hand wound around Victor, finding the small of his back. He pulled them back flush roughly, trapping Victor’s hands between them against his chest.

If only he’d showed this much fight out in the field earlier…

“I’m sorry.” he found himself mumbling - almost whimpering. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean-”

“It’s okay.”

Gentle hands closed either side of his face and Victor’s forehead rested against his as their lips parted for a moment. The cerulean eyes glowing at him now weren’t the same ice chipped orbs that had glowered at him earlier. They were soft and tender, loving and -

Yuuri didn’t dare let himself finish. It was too much for him. Tears welled in his eyes and he glanced down, unable to hold Victor’s gaze. A ragged gasp tore through him, feeling his heart crumble all over again. Soft fingertips ran down the side of his face, but they weren’t comforting - they just made him fall apart faster.

The first tears blinked to freedom down his cheeks as Yuuri felt strong arms close around his shoulders, fingers weaving gently through his hair. They guided him to the crook where Victor’s neck met his shoulder. Soft cooing mumbled in his ear and Yuuri lost himself to it, crying messily into his hero’s bare shoulder and wrapping his arms around Victor’s waist to hold him close. He needed it. He wasn’t sure what it was, but he needed it. Victor’s body swayed ever so softly from side to side and his fingers combed delicately through Yuuri’s hair, his calming voice jolting ever so slightly with his own shaky breaths.

He should be dead. Maybe he had died, and this was all some form of paradise that he was experiencing. It would make more sense that way at least, way more sense!

Yuuri wasn’t sure how long he cried for but he remembered what it was that jolted him out of it; a dull ache in his groin, growing more and more every passing minute until it was almost painful. He was still hard? Even crying on Victor’s shoulder he was still hard?!

Yuuri buried his face into Victor’s soft skin even more, feeling his face burn with more than just the flush from crying. His hips rolled forward instinctively, and Yuuri gasped when they made contact with Victor’s body. His very _hard_ body.

Then it was Victor’s turn to drop his head down to Yuuri’s shoulder, back muscles trembling slightly under Yuuri’s touch.

“Yuuri.”

It was a whisper. A prayer. The most beautiful and erotic thing that Yuuri could have ever dreamt of, firing his blood to life with just that one breathed word. His hands settled on Victor’s hips instinctively, thumbs grazing over the v-line of muscle that joined Victor’s hips to his thighs. His breath caught at his own bravery; what was he doing?

Victor didn’t seem to mind though, rolling into Yuuri’s touch and turning his face into Yuuri’s neck. Lips attached themselves to his throat, kissing tenderly but firmly. Yuuri pressed open mouthed kisses to the tip of Victor’s shoulder.

His breath hitched when he felt his trousers slide over his hips, clinging ever so slightly in their dampness. Victor’s smooth hands worked them free though, palming the soft flesh of Yuuri’s behind.

When their erections touched, it felt like a livewire.

Yuuri’s mouth fell open at the sensation and his hand moved to Victor’s hips, holding him _there_ while he ground against him. It was insane. Victor sighed hotly against his skin before his chin angled a little more to the side, snagging Yuuri’s mouth once again with his own. It tasted saltier this time; was Yuuri still crying?

Victor’s hips were moving too, both seeking out the pleasure that was slowly firing through their bloodstream, melting their bodies together in a way that was almost _too_ good. Yuuri wanted to stay like that forever, sucking on Victor’s tongue and grinding against his dick until the world collapsed.

Until Victor curled his hand around them.

Yuuri wasn’t sure who groaned first, but they both did as Victor’s fingers closed around their cocks, thumb swirling over their tips and spreading the moisture that leaked between them.

Fingers dug hard into Victor’s biceps hard enough to bruise. Gasping breaths caught between their locked lips. Hips thrusted up into Victor’s fist and the friction was delicious, pulsing through Yuuri like wildfire. He needed more. More of Victor. More friction. More everything.

His knees went weak when Victor’s hand stroked between them and he fell back against the tiled wall of the bathroom, Victor’s spare hand bracing on the wall beside Yuuri’s head. The Captain’s mouth hungrily attached to the side of his neck. Yuuri couldn’t help but cry out as Victor sucked in perfect timing with the thrust of his hand, blood vessels bursting under Victor’s lips. Yuuri felt like his heart was going to burst right out of his chest.

He surrendered to the passion, surrendered to the mind numbing pleasure that was quickly overwhelming him. Perhaps it was the adrenalin. Perhaps he was just sick. Either way he was crying, and kissing, and was impossibly close, heat coiling in his gut.

When Victor’s hand picked up, Yuuri knew he had to be close too. His gasps were hot against Yuuri’s mouth, fingers curling against the wall, and the heat between them in the humid air misted Yuuri’s glasses. He didn’t care - all he cared about was the pressure tightening in his groin, building higher and higher with every pump of Victor’s firm fist. It wouldn’t be long, he thought, thrusting wildly into Victor’s hand. He was chasing down the pleasure, so close to seeing stars.

Victor came first.

The Captain’s hand dropped from the wall to Yuuri’s shoulder and clung on for dear life as his orgasm ripped through him, mouthing silently against Yuuri’s shoulder.

Yuuri wasn’t far behind. The wetness spilling between them and the absolutely wanton, vulnerable expression on Victor’s beautiful face tipped him over the edge and Yuuri felt his mind go blank. The back of his skull knocked against the bathroom tiles behind him, but he barely registered the pain. All he felt was relief. It washed over him like a blessing as he exploded in Victor’s grip with a soft cry, knees running weak and shuddering in Victor’s arms.

His hips rolled up into Victor’s grip through the aftershocks of his orgasm, suddenly gasping for air as he realised he’d stopped breathing. Wide brown eyes stared up at the ceiling. Slowly, his mind fluttered back to his body. Bit by bit, his rampant heartbeat started to steady in his rib cage.

And Yuuri started to become more and more aware of the body pressed against his, the lips nuzzling sweet kisses into the side of his neck. The gravity of what had just happened started to sink in.

He’d just had sex with Victor Nikiforov.

In the _showers._

Despite himself, Yuuri couldn’t help his fingers digging into the soft flesh of Victor’s shoulders though, clinging to the Captain while he worshipped Yuuri’s neck and collarbones like a treasured prize. He couldn’t help it. His dreams had come true, and with them a very real fear as he realised what he’d just done. He swore in his head, blood running cold despite the warm body pressed skin to skin against his - he would get sent to the front line for sure after this. After all, dead men didn’t talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keep tabs on my tumblr [here](https://justrae2010.tumblr.com/) and check out my other YOI fics [here](http://archiveofourown.org/users/justrae2010/pseuds/justrae2010)
> 
> Please drop a comment before you go !
> 
> Hope you liked it!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of Victors POV, as requested. 
> 
> Hope you liked it!

**_Seven years ago…_ **

Everything was going to Hell - or maybe Victor Nikiforov was already there. Where else could he be? Where else could Titans have breached the walls?

The ragged arch in the stone wall glared at the young Captain from across the city, Titans pouring through one by one and … just devouring. Victor was watching the world end. And in a matter of minutes, it would all be right on top of him.

He could see instantly that the city was doomed. It was a humble settling not a built up town, every house short and plain. There were precious few rooftops tall enough to make a stand from, to be out of the Titan’s grasp - too few. They didn’t have a chance. The city was lost the moment the wall had crumbled, and all the people…

 _Dead,_ Victor couldn’t help but think as the screams echoed in his ears from around him. They would all soon be dead.

Even him.

His long silver hair whipped around him, dancing in the breeze like it was just a normal summer’s day instead of the worst disaster in the history of humanity. Victor blinked through the silver strands like they were a curtain to a dream, like none of it was real. Only it was real - with death marching closer and the end of life as humanity knew it with it...

“ _Help me_!”

Victor jolted back to life.

The scream echoed in his ears, stricken with fear and followed by the grisly crunch of bone and squelch of mangled flesh. He blinked up, feeling his eyes shoot wide. Another person dead.

 _Where_?

His eyes scoured the city - small bodies running and large ones spilling slowly through the streets, plucking the unlucky ones from alleyways, houses, where they’d fallen on the street...Victor’s hand moved instinctively to the blade at his belt, finger’s only just not trembling. He had to do something.

He was a soldier.  He’d trained for this! It wasn’t his first time seeing a Titan; he’d held the highest kill record of anybody in the Scouts for five consecutive years for a reason!

But it was one thing fighting a Titan out there, in their world where they went looking for a fight. This was _inside_ the walls. This was their home. This was where it was supposed to be safe. All that was crumbling around him as the streets ran red with blood while Victor Nikiforov stood there watching with his mouth hanging open and his heart stopped dead in his chest. Horror dripped steadily through his bloodstream, every cell in his body numb and frozen.

Another scream somewhere.

Another person dead.

He could have stopped it.

Victor’s jaw snapped shut suddenly, eyes narrowing and slowly swirling with cruel, bitter hatred; he was better than this. Blinking into focus, his burning aquamarine gaze settled on the gaping hole in the wall. It was time he proved it.

The city was lost. He knew that already. He may be Victor Nikiforov, but even he couldn’t save an entire city by himself with a huge hole in the wall that he had no hope of sealing. No, he couldn’t hold the city - but he could hold off as many Titans as he could to give the surviving city folk more time to escape behind Wall Maria to safety. At least, he hoped it would be to safety. He didn’t really want to think about the alternative.

Victor’s boots slapped noisily against the cobbled street as he leapt down from the rooftop - and ran. Towards the breach. He tried to focus on the beat of his footsteps instead of everything else; like the fear lifting the hairs at the back of his neck, the the bead of nervous sweat running down his brow, or the sudden dryness in his throat… he wasn’t used to being so low on the ground around Titan’s, the buildings - however short - cutting off vital spheres of vision around him and sending twangs of vulnerability through his system. He didn’t dare use his ODM gear though. Not yet. Not until he had a better idea of how long he might need that fuel to last him.

His shoulder cut through the panicked crowds running against him, fighting his way forward to the bloodshed. That was where he needed to be, to buy these more people more time to get out. Everybody was delirious with panic, all running with blind fear in their eyes and - the closer Victor got to the hole - crimson splattered on their faces.

Except for one.

Victor had nipped into a side street when he spotted the boy, the thin road leading right towards the hole. The world around him was hell. Lumps of dislodged stone crushed houses and smeared bodies across the street, blood everywhere Victor looked.

And Titans. Titans loomed just one row of houses away.

Victor ran past the kid, hand reaching for his blade instinctively. He followed the boy’s gaze - right down to the six meter Titan crouched in front of them. It was distracted, rooting through the ruined remains of a house while blood and wood scattered across the street and cut short its path. Something underneath the wood screamed. Victor pressed on, drawing his blade.

The best thing he could do for that boy to survive was kill the monster. And the one beside it. And the one to his left, no further away than those in front of him.

Only the kid wasn’t running.

Victor stopped in his tracks and turned, praying that he’d see an empty street behind him. His heart balked when the kid was still there, frozen in place.

He was pale with shock and blood streaked down his white, round face, matting his thick black hair. A lump of chub thickened his middle. He couldn’t have been older than fifteen, but he looked smaller somehow in the midst of what was happening around him, younger. His eyes nearly bulged out of his skull with horror. _Could_ the boy even run? Victor suddenly wondered. He still wasn’t moving - even as the screams from the house abruptly cut off in an unmistakable way.

Victor’s teeth snagged his lip, glancing back down the street. The Titan hadn’t noticed them yet. _Yet._ It wouldn’t be long, just a matter of moments until it finished it’s mouthful.

The boy couldn’t be any older than fifteen.

_The same age Victor had been when he'd needed saving too._

A groan tore from Victor’s lips as his steps backtracked, going exactly against what all the adrenaline in his system was telling him to do. He couldn’t help it though, skidding to his knees in front of the kid and grabbing his shoulders hard enough to bruise. The boy didn’t notice.

Victor shook him. Hard. “What are you doing?” he gasped, the kid’s body limp and pliant beneath his fingers. “You have to run! Get out of here!”

The kid didn’t even blink.

Desperation stabbed at Victor, swallowing the nauseous lump in his throat and trying to ignore the burn behind his eyes. He was just a _kid..._

“You have to _go_!” he begged.

The kid just stared - right at the Titan slowly tilting its head up towards them, blood still oozing from its mouth. He started to shake. “My…my house…”

Victor’s heart tugged. The kid was watching his world fall apart, his home literally crushed before his very eyes. The man under the wood, the one that had bought them precious time while the Titan ate him alive - the boy’s father, perhaps? No wonder he was so shocked, so terrified…

The Titan rose to its feet, eyes locked on them. Victor’s blood ran cold. He had to do something - but what? Even if he killed this Titan, he couldn’t kill all of them.

“You have to go.” Victor tried one last time, counting the seconds. “Get to the gate.”

His hands shoved at the boy’s chest and the kid sprawled back, slipping on the blood stained street and thudding down hard on the cobbles. Victor prayed it would jolt him back to life. He just needed to get the boy running. Once he was running, Victor could buy him more time. If he stayed, he was dead. Titans loomed either side of them now, noticing the prey sat there waiting to be plucked from the street. Victor’s blood raced with barely contained panic, hearing the first pounding footstep behind them.

The boy still didn’t move. “Vicchan…”

Victor almost wanted to cry as the boy just _lay there_ , tears glittering in his beautiful, big brown eyes that stared just a fraction over Victor’s head. Suddenly, they shot wide.

That was all Victor needed to know they were out of the time.

His mind made up quickly; an arm scooped up the kid while the other kicked his ODM gear to life, hissing as the cord whizzed through the air. Victor braced himself for the pull, the drag of being launched through the air, his arm clenching hard around the catatonic child … he gasped as it hit, air whipping at his face and long hair tumbling behind him. He felt the sting at his skull as the silky strands melted through the monster’s clutching fingertips.

 _That was close_ , Victor thought with stilled breath as they whizzed through the chaotic city, rooftop to rooftop. They weren’t high, but they were high enough. High enough for Victor to spot the barge on the canal, loading with people beside Wall Maria. It was filling quickly.

He altered his course straight for it. The closer he got, the more he noticed just how few seats were left compared to how many people spilled from the streets, pushing against the line of soldiers running along the canal. They were desperate. Everybody was desperate.

Victor was desperate too.

His legs nearly buckled beneath him when they hit the ground again, running the second his boots made contact even though his knees felt like jelly. He prayed he could hold on, just long enough.

His hand slapped down on the nearest soldier’s shoulder, wide eyes flashing with surprise when they turned. Of course, they knew who he was. Knew he shouldn’t really be here. Victor didn’t have time for questions now though, glaring through the thin curtain of silver hair falling in front of his face while he forced the child into the young man’s arms. He needed to get the boy safe. He needed to _go._

“Get him on the boat.”

It was blunt and brief, voice sharp and commanding. There was no arguing with Victor today. Not now. Not while they were running out of time. These boats needed to go.

“But, sir-”

“I said -” Victor’s eyes snapped back to the soldier, blazing murder. “- _get him on the boat._ ”

The soldier’s eyes shot wide, flinching at Victor’s tone. Victor half wished the boy would do the same but all he did was stare blankly back towards the wrecked remains of his home in the middle of the city being quickly overrun. Victor prayed that the boats could save him better than his own failing instincts had. What was the hold up anyway? Victor wondered as the soldier finally turned away, fighting through the crowd with the child in his arms.

Victor stepped ahead of them, shoulder carving a path through the people mercilessly. They didn’t have time for politeness. The boat needed to go, and Victor needed to get the boy on the boat.

He could hear the clumsy soldier following behind him and turned his attention ahead of him, clearing a path to the gangway. It was blocked. An officer stood there, yelling at a man stood stubbornly on the gangway plank who yelled back just as furiously.

Victor quickly understood why.

“My son!” the man shouted, face red and sweaty black bangs wild around his eyes despite the neat parting cutting down the center of his head. Red dribbled down the side of his cheek. “I have to go back for him! Just hold the boat ten more minutes-”

“We don’t have ten more minutes!” the soldier screamed back.

“Please! He was by the clock tower last I saw him-”

Victor stepped up to the gangway, pulling the soldier back by the scruff of his neck. “That part of the town is overrun.” he said firmly, taking the soldier's place blocking the gangway and hitting the man with his hardest stare. “It’s lost. This boat has to go. _Now._ ”

The guy didn’t look like the type that usually yelled, Victor couldn’t help but think as the man staggered back a surprised step. He just looked too … nice. He was well dressed - albeit, currently speckled with crimson - had smart glasses, and his angry eyes blinked round at Victor’s words, tears quickly swimming to the surface as the breath hitched in his throat. His face paled a shade. Victor felt bad for him.

But he didn’t have time for sympathy. Not right now.

“ _Yuuri_!!”

The woman behind the - he looked like an innkeeper of some kind - suddenly screamed, shoving her husband aside with her arms outstretched. Towards Victor. Victor blinked, floored. Then-

“ _Kaa-san!”_

Victor spun around at the tiny yell behind his ear and his heart skipped a beat when his eyes settled on the boy in the soldier’s arms. He wasn’t still anymore. He squirmed, and sobbed, and kicked, arms reaching out to the boat, to the woman, to his mother.

Victor passed him over.

Something stabbed at his chest as he watched the boy get swallowed up in his mother’s arms, both trembling, both crying. Victor finally allowed himself a sigh of relief.

“H-have you seen Vicchan?” the boy hiccuped, wet eyes blinking round at his mother.

She blinked back, mouth falling open. “We thought he was with you.”

Her eyes shifted to her husband, the question glittering in her gaze before she really _thought_ about what she was asking. The man didn’t even need to shake his head. His wife’s eyes darkened with understanding and she just held onto her son tighter as he howled against her shoulder, turning - mercifully - back onto the boat.

Victor’s eyes followed them, until a hand on his shoulder distracted him. The innkeeper. His eyes shone with a new kind of tear now, swallowing hard. “Thank you.” he hissed, fingers on Victor’s jacket trembling.

Victor just pursed his lips, nodding stiffly. “ _Go_.”

He didn’t see the boat go, but hoped beyond hope that those useless soldiers could do _one thing_ right at least. He hoped the boy would make it.

Victor unsheathed his blade, and ran back into the madness.

 

* * *

 

Years later, Victor Nikiforov was miraculously still alive. The heat of the campfire bounced off his face and reminded him of the glow of alcohol on his cheeks, bottle weighing heavily in his hand. He wasn’t drunk. But he half wanted to be.

Welcoming the new wave of cadets into the squad had lost its thrill for Victor over the years. He was twenty-seven and alive - a combination that was rare in his field! It was starting to take its toll on him, watching countless new faces die before right in front of his eyes before he’d even had the chance to learn their names. Even after all this time, he still tried. He still wanted to know their names, even when he knew the inevitable would happen beyond the walls and he knew he would never get to put the knowledge to any use. He wanted to remember. It helped remind him that he was still human.

Even as his eyes scanned the ranks of new cadets that had signed up to the scouts and picked out the ones he thought would be the first to go when the time came.

His eyes settled on a dark haired boy rolling his sleeves up by the fire, cheeks red with the flush of alcohol and apparently arguing with an irritated Yuri Plisetsky. The newbie didn’t look irritated though. The glow in his eyes was having the time of his life, legs swaying ever so slightly and eyes the tiniest bit unsteady as they glanced around him, but - _damn -_ that smile! It was absolutely adorable.

It made Victor’s heart crack in his chest. A kid with eyes that shone so bright didn’t belong on such a team, shouldn’t see the horrors that awaited him on the other side of the wall.

Yuuri Katsuki wasn’t weak though.

Victor had seen the look on the young man’s face when they’d given the newly graduated cadets the _brutal_ truth of what joining their ranks might mean - and he hadn’t even blinked.

He’d been _there_ , Victor had pieced together. When the world had gone to hell all those years ago and Titan’s had crawled through the walls, Yuuri Katsuki had been there somewhere amongst the Hellfire, watching it all burn, watching the people he loved die.

Victor remembered that day vividly. That was the day he finally realised that all it was temporary; the towns and cities, the army, the walls… life as he knew it. It would all come to dust someday, at the hands of the Titans. He’d cut his hair because of it, a stark reminder to himself every time he looked in the mirror. Everything around him was only temporary. Even the people. Especially the people. All the recruits around this bonfire would be dead in… what? Three years? Five, if they were exceedingly lucky. So Victor didn’t get involved anymore, didn’t care about anything, didn’t fight for anything. He just fought.

He sipped quietly on his grainy beer, watching with a sly smirk as Christophe danced - with _way_ too few clothes and _way_ too much inappropriate use of the ODM gear training posts. He nearly said something.

Until Yuuri joined in.

The beer suddenly tasted like ash in Victor’s mouth as Yuuri shed the loose straps of his harness and pulled off his shirt, revealing the toned physique hidden beneath masked in glorious tanned skin. Bright brown eyes shone across the fire - right at Victor.

Victor was floored. He wasn’t prepared for the hard thud of his heart in his chest or the dribble of beer down his chin as his bottle missed his mouth, too distracted by the dark haired beauty across the camp to really care. His mouth hung open in awe. A tiny voice in the back of his head barked in warning; reminding him that he was a _captain_ and the boy would probably be dead in a month anyway - Victor just batted it down, ignoring it. It wasn’t like he was in love with the boy.

He was interested, that was all. Captivated - especially as his newest recruit stumbled his way across the campfire, clumsily reaching for his hand. When had Yuuri lost his trousers?

He pulled Victor to his feet.

Victor’s body slapped against Yuuri’s, feeling the warmth from the young man’s chest oozing tantalisingly through his shirt and sucking in a sharp breath, tasting the alcohol reeking the air around Yuuri.

Still, he was beautiful. Too beautiful. Victor felt the air hitch in his lungs as the young recruit threw his arms around Victor’s waist, burying his face in his chest - and he did absolutely nothing to stop it. The shaky breath that shuddered from Victor ruffled the short bangs hanging over his face. His eyes stared down at Yuuri, wide with shock and round with absolute awe. God, he was so beautiful, those plump lips just begging to be kissed…

Everybody built bonds at the bonfire, but Victor had seen enough people come and go to know better than to buy into his own scheme by now. Sure he had Christophe and Yuri from his own hometown, but he didn’t make the mistake of caring for anybody else anymore. It would only end badly.

But Yuuri was _fascinating._ Throwing himself at Victor with absolute abandon, Victor felt his heart skip a traitorous beat in his chest every time Katsuki pulled them close to the tune the newbies struck up around the campfire, knowing that he should be mortified at the cadet’s behaviour but too enamoured by those big, beautiful brown eyes to really care. It wasn’t like he was in love with him; it was just … fun. Victor was having fun. He was allowed to have fun, right? He’d almost forgotten what it had felt like.

Then Yuuri dipped him and Victor damned near forgot how to breathe too. The air caught in Victor’s throat. He shouldn’t be doing this, he suddenly realised with a sinking feeling in his gut. He was a captain - Yuuri was a new recruit! It was unheard of. It was wrong.

But the way Victor’s name rolled off Yuuri’s tongue in a breathless sigh made it sound so, so right.

The camp thinned as the night wore on, fire burned down to smouldering embers instead of roaring flames. Victor barely noticed, lost in Yuuri’s warm chocolate brown eyes.

He was drunk now, but not by alcohol. Something much, much more potent, shining from Yuuri’s infectious smile. Whatever power Yuuri Katsuki held over him was one Victor happily surrendered to, relishing the curl of the cadet’s fingers around his own as they danced on through the night like time didn’t exist. Yuuri’s eyes still gazed at him with a glow that Victor couldn’t quite place.

Yuuri fluttered those ridiculously long eyelashes at him and Victor felt himself freeze. The blood rose to his cheeks in a tell-tale blush. Yuuri stared up at him with those beautiful, round brown eyes, cheeks red from the alcohol and leaning so heavily into Victor, Victor half wondered if he’d be able to stand by himself if his captain wasn’t there to support him. His skin was warm through Victor’s thin shirt, dark hair wild and mussed up.

“Be my captain, Victor!” he crooned into the toned planes of Victor’s chest, pressing the length of his body against the captain’s.

Victor swore quietly under his breath, unable to look away. The cadet in his arms looked an absolute mess.

And Victor was _completely_ and _utterly_ in love with him.

 

* * *

 

The thunder of hooves still echoed in Victor’s head hours after he was back behind the relative safety of the walls, wide eyes staring distantly at the tiles across the shower room. It was better than the high pitched ring blaring in his right ear though, still throbbing from the cannon fire that blasted off right next to his skull as he’d galloped through the gates. A trickle of dried blood trailed down his neck from his ear canal.

Blood was everywhere; his hair, his face, his hands - the smell of it on his skin from seeping through his clothes themselves that heaped on the floor beside him… he couldn’t bear it. Victor didn’t dare think about how many bodies they had left behind in the Giant Forest.

He just prayed Yuuri Katsuki wasn’t one of them.

He’d lost him.

Like an absolute idiot, Victor had lost him. He’d just tossed Yuuri the fuel cannister and bolted, barely able to look at the young scout without something in his heart breaking. It had been selfish, and childish, and… and Victor hadn’t seen Yuuri ride back with their ranks. He’d looked - as much as he’d been able to, he’d looked. But he hadn’t found any mess of tangled black hair or those adorable round cheeks anywhere when he’d scoured the return party and his stomach churned with dread.

He should have stayed with him. He’d given Yuuri fuel, but Victor remembered the way Katsuki’s blade had clattered from his hand when Victor had plucked him from the ground, leaving him with nothing to defend himself but his own agility. And sometimes running just wasn’t enough.

Victor felt sick.

He could have killed him. Maybe he had. He hadn’t had the nerve to check the list of the dead for Katsuki’s name when they got back for fear of the worst. He wasn’t ready. Seeing it would make it real.

All the men and women on that list were his responsibility already and they were all faceless to him, unknown. Yet still Victor felt the weight of every single one of their deaths pressing down on his shoulders. The idea that Yuuri might be one of them, someone who wasn’t a stranger to him, someone who made his heart flutter every time Victor so much as looked at him… his hands trembled at his sides, air stolen from his lungs.

Fear crawled up his spine, chilling and sharp. Yuuri swam in his mind; those once bright, beautiful brown eyes dull and sightless; that strong, lithe body broken and twisted; perfect lips parted around his last scream before the life was crushed out of him-

Victor staggered back in horror, arm teetering out wildly. Whatever it made contact with clattered to the tiles, the sound distant in Victor’s ears.

He didn’t care. He didn’t care about anything if Yuuri was dead. What was the point? If the one person Victor cared about in this world was ripped from him in the most brutal fashion, the driving force for Victor to fight his damnest every day and maybe make the world that little bit safer for Yuuri, the reason he forced himself to survive even though he knew he longed deserved to just be left outside the wall and torn limb from limb for the wasted lives on his conscience… Victor wasn’t sure he’d be able to bear it without Yuuri.

Even if Yuuri didn’t feel a thing for him in turn.

The campfire was the last time Victor had seen that glorious smile flashed his way, the last time he’d felt Yuuri’s strong arms around him. Now all he got was side wards glances and flushed cheeks. Nothing more.

Victor understood. Yuuri obviously regretted what happened between them at the campfire, obviously didn’t want anything to do with Victor beyond his duties as a soldier. Victor understood. He was right; Victor was a captain and Yuuri was a cadet; Victor had endless blood on his hands, while Yuuri was doe-eyed and perfect; Victor was progressively duller and more weathered every day, while Yuuri was _beautiful._ Victor understood. But he didn’t like it. And it didn’t mean a thing - Victor’s feelings for the cadet hadn’t wavered an inch.

Vaguely, he started to notice the chill crawling up his spine and tingling at his fingertips. His fists had long since relaxed, not even enough strength to hold on to his frustration anymore. He should turn on the water. He should get dressed. He should do _something._

But he didn’t. Victor just stood there in the shower cubicle, stunned and dazed, with cold seeping into his bones minute by minute despite the humidity of the room raising a sheen of sweat to his skin.

The ringing was still in his ears, still deafening. Maybe he was still rattled by the blast, brain knocked about in his skull still fragile and confused. Maybe that was why he felt like this, so sick with irrational fear for _one cadet that didn’t even like him_! It was wrong. As a captain, it was wrong to spend so much time thinking about one scout.

But it was _Yuuri…_

Then Victor blinked, and Yuuri was there.

The breath hitched quietly in his lungs. Yuuri Katsuki stood in the doorway of Victor’s shower cubicle, fully clothed and dripping wet. His white shirt clung to his body leaving nothing to the imagination and his wet trousers hugged his thighs, thick with muscle. Water dripped from his eyelashes. His wet hair was plastered to his forehead and his round brown eyes rimmed with red, though Victor couldn’t tell how much of the water on Yuuri’s face was from tears or the shower water.

Victor’s heart stopped - Yuuri was an angel. Which meant that either Yuuri was dead, or he was, frozen from exposure or brain melted out his ear from the cannon fire. Yuuri was just too beautiful to be real, so radiant…

The angel’s gaze flickered down, drinking in Victor’s nakedness. It snapped up to the ceiling almost instantly, red flooding his cheeks and sucking in a shaky breath.

Victor swallowed hard, heart hammering in his chest. Angels didn’t blush, he pieced together; real people did, with blood flowing through their veins thick with life. Tears welled in Yuuri’s eyes, glittering under the clear lights of the showers. Did angels cry? Victor decided not, clinging to the illusion that Yuuri was _really there_ for just a heartbeat longer. For his own sanity.

He was just as perfect as Victor remembered - more so! The pretty blush on his cheeks was much better than the chalky paleness of fear he’d seen out in the Giant Forest. Dripping wet from the shower was better than being drenched in sweat from staring death in the face. Victor’s eyes fell down to Yuuri’s lips, relishing each shaky breath with an internal groan of appreciation to whichever gods out there were listening.

Yuuri was alive.

_Alive!_

Victor’s mouth fell open, but no words came out. He wasn’t sure what to say.

He was just glad Yuuri was alive, more grateful than he’d ever been for anything in his entire life. His heart fired back to life just looking at the young cadet. It relished the rise in his chest, the flush of colour splashed over his cheeks, the vulnerable glitter in his wide brown eyes… Victor’s chest ached with a whine that never passed his lips, choked down instinctively for Yuuri’s sake.

Blood surged through Victor, to _some places_ more than others. He couldn’t help it; he had Yuuri Katsuki - _alive_! - dripping wet in front of him, with damp clothes hugging his every curve leaving little to the imagination.

Victor knew he was staring, but he didn’t care. He didn’t care that Yuuri didn’t like him. _Yuuri didn’t care._ Victor said it over and over in his head, but it wasn’t enough to drown down the swell of his heart in his chest, the heat racing through his blood. He wanted to touch him, impulse twitching in his fingers. He wanted to touch him, to feel Yuuri’s pulse beneath his fingers and the warmth of his body pressed against his like it had been all that time ago at the campfire, just to prove to himself that it wasn’t a dream. That Yuuri was really here. _Yuuri didn’t care_ , he told himself for the hundredth time, fighting the urge. _He didn’t-_

Victor reached for him anyway. His lips slammed hard against Yuuri’s, soul crooning with satisfaction at the contact.

He would never let Yuuri Katsuki out of his reach ever again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keep tabs on my tumblr [here](https://justrae2010.tumblr.com/) and check out my other YOI fics [here](http://archiveofourown.org/users/justrae2010/pseuds/justrae2010)
> 
> Please drop a comment before you go !


	3. Chapter 3

In the days that followed, Yuuri was a nervous wreck. He tried to focus on the ropes in his hands at the top of the wall, tried to remember the technique to get the most secure hold on the base of the canon. He stared down at his hands, willing for his body to remember the years of experience he had worked towards for the last three years or so.

But he couldn’t.

He couldn’t remember a thing.

All he could think about was his Captain; his moonlight silver hair, molten crystal eyes, and the firm press of his lips as they’d kissed him hard -

“Yuuri!”

Yuuri blinked.

Round grey eyes stared at him over the canon, nestled under a slightly furrowed brow and a mop of dark, black hair. They linked effortlessly with his own wide-eyed gaze.  _ Phichit _ , Yuuri sighed in his head; the relief was minimal.

His heart was still racing, still pulsing wildly in his chest while cold sweat gathered at the back of his neck. It was like a million eyes were trained on him, watching his every move, knowing his every secret… did Phichit know? What if he did? Those innocent looking grey eyes were sharper than they looked, knew Yuuri almost better than he knew himself. That was bad. So, so bad. If that put Phichit in danger because of him-

A small, unconvincing smile tweaked at his best friend’s lips. “Are you okay?”

Yuuri’s lips ghosted apart, blood running cold like somebody had thrown a bucket of ice water over him. Why was Phichit asking? Did he not look okay? What did he look like? And if Phichit could spot it then who else might -

“Just fix the damn canons already!” a rough voice whined from over Yuuri’s shoulder, making him jump.  _ Yurio _ . “I don’t want to be here all day.”

Young and small, with golden blonde hair glinting gloriously in the sunlight, Yurio was the youngest cadet to graduate in Yuuri’s class - barely legal! Rumour was that he’d lost his whole family when Wall Maria fell. Yuuri wasn’t sure how true it might be, but the hard edge to the youngster’s eyes and his sensitive temper told him not to rule it out too quickly. Normally, Yuuri tried to keep his distance, for his own sanity’s sake. It was just his luck he’d landed wall duty with him…

It was a ridiculously warm day. The sun beat down in a way that was starting to smart the skin on the back of Yuuri’s hands, feeling the heat radiate dangerously off the metal of the cannons. The dry rope dragged against his skin, rough and ragged. It was the worst duty they could have gotten. Nobody wanted to be there.

And they’d be there forever at the rate Yuuri was going.

Phichit finished roping his side of the canon with a firm knot, leaning forward on his hands and knees to whisper.

“Seriously though, are you okay? You’ve been a bit… weird since the last mission.”

Yuuri licked his lips nervously. They were chapped and dry. He couldn’t wait to get back to the base for some more water. In the meantime though, blood pounded thick in his head, fogging his thinking.

“Did something happen?”

_ Yes _ .

It sprung up instantly in his mind but lagged behind late on his lips, hovering on the tip of his tongue. Why couldn’t he say it? To Phichit of all people - why couldn’t Yuuri tell him?

Because to tell him would be admitting that it had really happened, and Yuuri wasn’t sure he was ready to face that yet. The thought alone was terrifying. That he might be just a plaything for the Captain, knowing the power the man easily wielded over him. One wrong move, one wrong word and Victor could make him  _ disappear  _ forever. Maybe Phichit too, just for being his dorm mate. For the risk of knowing, even if Yuuri never actually told him. Yuuri wasn’t under any illusion of the world they lived in. He’d watched the government march 250,000 civilians into Titan drenched land a year after the fall of Shiganshina to ‘reclaim Wall Maria’ all for the sake of population control. Victor could do the same to Yuuri if he wanted. He was a Captain. It would be easy.

A strangled noise choked out of Yuuri’s throat at the thought. Phichit’s brow crinkled.

Yuuri cursed himself instantly. He needed to pull himself together, before they both got shot, or eaten, or worse-

“Sir!”

He jumped out of his skin.

It took a moment for him to recognise Yurio’s voice behind him and register Phichit scrambling to his feet across the cannon. The word echoed in Yuuri’s ears, but it took another second before he registered what it meant. Sir. Superior. Attention. Up.

Yuuri scrambled to his feet in a clumsy mess, dusting his sweaty palms against his trousers as he rushed to straighten up. His hands felt numb, fingers trembling. It loosened his hold on the fist he snapped over his heart in salute as he turned to his superiors beside his fellow cadets. He hoped whoever it was wouldn’t notice, wouldn’t-

His mouth ran dry.

Captain Nikiforov crossed the wall with sure, steady strides, an amused smirk played on his lips and silver hair glinting gloriously in the sunlight.

Yuuri felt his heart flutter traitorously.

The captain wasn’t alone though.  Second in command, Christophe Giacometti, followed half a pace behind him, a similar mischievous glint in his eye to the one that sparkled in the Captain’s. His smirking lips pressed together, olive green eyes shooting straight to Yuuri through the small band of cadets, grazing him up and down a little too leisurely. Yuuri felt his stomach twist sickeningly - he  _ knew _ .

Yuuri’s jaw fell open, eyes shooting wide. Sweat pricked at the base of his neck in warning, lifting the fine hairs on his arms to stark attention.

What did that mean? Was Victor making a sport of him? The eager look in Giacometti’s eyes look just a little  _ too  _ interested, sparkling with his secret and maybe something more. What had Victor told him? What had he told Victor back? Yuuri’s heart hammered away in his chest, not at all encouraged by the way Giacometti’s gaze lingered on him even as he broke away from Victor’s path, following the inner line of the wall instead.

“Chulanont! Plisetsky!”

Yuuri felt Phichit jump beside him.

Something glinted in Christophe’s olive green gaze that Yuuri couldn’t quite place. He was still smirking. “With me.”

Yuuri caught Phichit’s eye.

They both glittered with something uncertain, eyebrows pinched together and mouths worrying in the corners. Yuuri was pretty sure the blatant horror written on his face wasn’t much consolation to his friend.

He couldn’t help it though, watching helplessly as Phichit turned and followed Christophe the way he had no choice but to do, Yurio following closely behind. Yuuri swallowed hard, mouth hovering open. He wanted to call out - but the words died in his throat, choked down by the ominous presence of the Captain quickly looming in on him. His feet were glued to the wall, holding him in place. He didn’t know what was going on - where Christophe was taking Yurio and Phichit - all he knew was that after what had happened between him and the Captain in the showers, he didn’t have a good feeling about it.

Yuuri felt like he was going to be sick as Nikiforov stopped in front of him, eyes shining. His lips curved in a smile a little too tweaked in the corners to be innocent.

God, even the way he pronounced Yuuri’s name was attractive, Yuuri couldn’t help but think, swallowing thickly. The faint tang of an accent clung to the syllables, melodic and alien to Yuuri’s ears. He wasn’t even sure if there was a name for that kind of accent anymore.

Out of the corner of his eye, Yuuri followed Phichit. The three of them were further down the wall, leaning over the inner edge ever so slightly. Yuuri’s heart skipped a beat. Surely, Chris wouldn’t push them off-

A hand clamped down on Yuuri’s shoulder. It turned his body round sharply, forcing his back to his friends. Of course, Victor didn’t want him to see.

“I need you to inspect the outside of the wall with me, cadet.”

Yuuri stared at Victor out of the corner of his eye. Was it just him, or was Victor’s voice just a touch too loud then? A little  _ too  _ obvious?

He didn’t have time to linger on it though - not before a flash of movement caught his eye. Yuuri’s head turned before he could help it, jerking over his shoulder. The spot where Phichit, Yurio and Chris had once stood was now empty.

His heart jammed to a halt.

“Don’t worry,” Victor said in a quieter tone, leaning closer so that his breath washed over the shell of Yuuri’s ear. “Chris will take care of them.”

_ Take care of them. _

Yuuri felt like fainting.

His eyes were so wide that they ached in the stretched corners, his heart boxing with his ribcage inside his chest. He didn’t know how to calm it down though – or if he even could while his comrades could be being  _ taken care of _ across the wall. He’d heard the stories. He knew what that phrase meant. He blinked, gaze watery.

It was only then he noticed the pegs.

Three in all, dug into the stone where Phichit had stood just moments ago, lines stretched taunt over the edge of the wall. Yuuri breathed a short sigh of relief. They were still attached to their gear, hadn’t fallen. Why not? What was happening? Was Christophe  _ really  _ inspecting the lines of the stone with the cadets or did he have a hand around their throats, threatening them, silencing them permanently-

“Yuuri.”

Yuuri jumped. A startled gasp slipped from his lips as his gaze jerked back to Captain Nikiforov’s brilliant blue eyes.

They sparkled gloriously, mouth pressed into a sly smirk. “Come here.”

The words simply purred off the Captain’s lips and Yuuri was helpless to resist, shivers running up his spine and legs dragging forward of their own accord. The Captain’s smirk stretched into a full blown smile when he stepped closer.

Yuuri’s next step nearly faltered when it did – the Captain’s smile was stunning. It lit up his face beautifully, bringing a pretty dash of pink to his cheeks and eyes blinking just a touch rounder, more glorious aquamarine dancing on display. The tiny lines around his face smoothed, worry lines evaporating, taking years off him. He looked so much younger, so much more beautiful. The smile suited him. It suddenly dawned on Yuuri that he’d never actually seen the Captain smile before…

The rest of the world loomed at Yuuri from the edge of the wall, gravity pulling him right to the edge, toe to toe with the Captain. It was like he had relinquished control of his body, drawn to the man beside him and helpless to defy him.

His breaths knocked up a fraction as he stared down at the green grass below. Was Victor going to push him off? Yuuri gulped hard, hard lump lodged in his throat. How much would it hurt, he wondered, when he splatted against the ground, bones cracking and skull exploding? Better that than being torn limb from limb by a Titan at least…

ODM gear whizzed quiety in his ear. Yuuri barely saw the flash of darting brown and silver before Victor was already gone, leaping off the edge of the wall like it was nothing more than a garden fence.

Victor swung through the air like it was the most natural thing in the world, teeth of his gear digging into the edge of the wall and the cord taut as his feet braced against the stone about ten meters down from where Yuuri stood staring. A bright, inviting smile flashed up at him. Yuuri couldn’t help but think there was something just a tad predatory there, like a wolf eying up a sheep.

“Come on.” Victor’s head jerked, flicking the silver bangs out of his eyes. “Down here.”

_ Oh God. _

Yuuri swallowed hard.

It took two attempts fumbling with his own gear before he was able to spear into the wall edge, stepping off with a prayer to whatever gods might be listening.

His heart skipped a beat as he fell, knees going weak as they braced against the outer wall beside the Captain. He could feel the pull of gravity on his hips. Out of the corner of his eye, Yuuri caught the flash of movement beneath, watching a Titan roam from around the wall to right beneath them, reaching up along the stone with fat fingers. Where had it come from? There was a hopeless amount of distance between them and the monster, but it was still enough for Yuuri’s blood to crawl, for him to gulp nervously.

What was the Captain's plan? Cut his ropes? Let him plunge to his death? Yuuri almost wished he’d just stepped off the edge of the wall a moment ago and gotten it over with. It would have been so much more merciful than if that Titan beneath caught him. Would Phichit hear his screams? Or had Chris finished them off by now?

Tears beaded in the corners of Yuuri’s eyes just thinking about it, blinking at the blurring stone in front of him. He hadn’t appreciated before just how beautiful it was.

It span in a whirl of grey and green.

The air knocked out of his lungs, back thudding hard against the stone wall. The whir of ODM gear hadn’t registered. Nor the stab in the stone beside his hip. Nor the way Victor Nikiforov pulled himself over in Yuuri’s direction. None of it clicked in Yuuri’s brain until Victor’s body was smothered over his, pressing him flush against the wall until there wasn’t a breath of space between their bodies. Their noses were barely an inch apart. Yuuri’s eyes crossed to catch a glimpse of the too innocent smile curving the captain’s lips.

Victor’s eyes sparkled. “Hi.”

Yuuri sucked in a haggard breath - he hadn’t been expecting that. He swallowed hard, trying to remember how to talk again. He wished his voice wasn’t so shaky when he did.

“H-hi.”

_ What the hell… _

Fingers laced gently through his and Yuuri’s breath caught as Victor guided the back of Yuuri’s hand against the wall beside his head. The stone felt warm, glowing from the sun.

Yuuri didn’t dare look away, watching every flicker of the Captain’s blue gaze. It travelled over his face, down the length of his nose, and lingering on his plump lips before he glanced back up to Yuuri’s eyes again. The smile widened.

“I missed you.”

Yuuri’s heart thudded so hard in his chest he nearly missed the words, feeling the warm huff of air as Victor practically sighed them into his mouth.

“I couldn’t wait to see you again.” Victor’s voice was like a whisper, soft enough to be a prayer. His eyelashes fluttered prettily, eyes hooded and seductive - half way closed for kissing. “I just couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

That was Victor wanted, right? More sex? More kissing? It had to be! If he hadn’t just killed Yuuri off after all this opportunity, he must want him for something and all Captain Nikiforov knew of Yuuri Katsuki was of his body from their little shower soiree. Why go through the trouble to taunt a man he’d already decided had to die?

Yuuri swallowed hard, tensing his muscles to try and stop his body from trembling traitorously. “M-me neither.”

_ Well, it was honest… _

Even if it had just been for wondering the different ways the Captain might have him killed.

Victor didn’t know that though. His smile widened, forehead bowing to touch Yuuri’s. His bright blue eyes fluttered shut, eyelashes fanning out over his slightly pink cheeks. Wait, was Victor… was he  _ blushing _ ?

“ _ Yuuri… _ ”

Yuuri wouldn’t have been able to look away even if he’d tried, eyes glued to the pretty pink dusting over Captain Nikiforov’s high cheekbones. It was just perfect. More than perfect. Just when he’d thought the Captain couldn’t get any more handsome…when he leaned even closer though Yuuri damned near forgot how to breathe - a kiss pressed to the corner of Yuuri’s mouth. All too chaste. All too fleeting.

Yuuri froze.

A kiss goodbye? A taunt? Yuuri’s head swam, wondering what would happen if he just fainted there and then. Would Victor leave him? Cut his ropes while he was unconscious so Yuuri wouldn’t feel his death? Why hadn’t he killed him already? Why toy with him like that? Perhaps he wasn’t going to kill him after all, Yuuri dared think, bracing the soles of his boots against the wall in an effort to fight the pins and needles creeping up his legs. Perhaps it was a message. A threat. A warning to stay silent.

It didn’t make it any less terrifying though.

A gentle hand roamed up Yuuri’s side, feeling every dip and curve of his figure beneath his shirt with painstaking detail.

“Do you still want to do this?” Victor sighed over his mouth, sounding breathless. “I can’t …” teeth snag his lip. “I mean, I can’t guarantee your safety…”

Yuuri sucked in a breath.

There it was. A threat. Definitely a threat. So if Yuuri didn’t pleasure him, then he was dead. Was that it? That was what it sounded like…

He wasn’t ready to die yet, especially like this; for nothing. Getting killed out on the battlefield, on a mission, was different - that was worth something! If he died pushing for humanities cause, then at least he would have died  _ for  _ something, fighting for a world that might someday look upon his name on a list of fallen soldiers and thank him for his sacrifice that helped them reclaim their world one day.

This though - dangling over the edge of the wall because he’d had sex with the wrong man in a moment of weakness - his death would be meaningless.

He wasn’t ready for that.

His mouth crashed against Victor’s before another thought could cross his mind.

The Captain’s lips were soft and warm, parting under Yuuri’s kiss to bleed a moan into his mouth that would have been simply sinful if Yuuri hadn’t been so terrified. Perhaps it was the fear that made him so sensitive. Every place their skin touched seemed to spark to life, Yuuri’s body arching off the wall to press flush against Victor’s. If the Captain wanted pleasure, then Yuuri would do anything he wanted. He would sell his body for a slightly longer life if he had to - until he figured out a better plan at least. There were worse people within the walls to be coerced into kissing.

Finally, Yuuri’s tongue caught up with his brain. “I understand.”

He was practically gasping, mind spinning with the ludicrousy of what was happening. He was being blackmailed into being the Captain’s  _ whore,  _ his life literally hanging by a thread in that moment.

He wasn’t the only one breathless though. Victor’s eyes were fluttered shut as a shaky whistle of air passed through his lips, cheeks glowing softly and face leaned forward ever so slightly from where his mouth had chased Yuuri’s. Victor’s lips were still parted.

It was the most beautiful thing Yuuri had ever seen.

He wanted to be ashamed of himself, at the way his heart sped up as his gaze traced the plump curve of Victor’s perfect lips. This was the man threatening to  _ kill him. _

But it was also the man Yuuri had loved since even before his world had fallen apart. He couldn’t just switch off years of admiration and teenage lust overnight. He'd been fine tuned to crave Victor, etching the desire into his system with every dreamy thought that had passed through his brain over the last few years. It would take time to erase, for the fear to gnaw it away – but it would happen. Surely, he loved being alive more than he loved his Captain.

… didn’t he?

He didn’t wait for his brain’s answer, fingers curling in the front of Captain Nikiforov’s jacket and pulling him in close as their lips met in a deliciously rough kiss.

 

* * *

Victor felt lighter in the coming days. Freer. He walked around with a near permanent smile on his face, and his eyes bright and lively. He didn’t feel so much like a Captain - even as he stood over the smooth expanse of luscious field watching his squad practise their hand to hand combat under the glorious sunshine. He felt like a man. Like the luckiest man in the world.

And all because of one wonderful person.

The pressure of Yuuri’s bruising kiss from the wall still lingered on Victor’s lips - a feeling he hoped would never fade for as long as he lived. It took everything in him to fight to urge to touch his mouth. 

His beaming smile wasn’t so lucky.

It glowed over the field of soldiers at Victor’s feet, plain flowing out from the base of a thick forest behind Victor. It was the wrong time to smile. It didn’t look right grinning ear to ear while he watched his men train, sparring with short, wooden daggers. An old exercise from their cadet days; not very useful against a Titan, but it helped keep skills sharp in between missions. And with the rumours Victor was hearing from behind the inner walls, he would rather be prepared for anything.

Amongst the hundreds of men though, Victor’s eyes followed only one. Yuuri Katsuki shone like a diamond amongst coal.

Victor followed every lunge of his jet black hair, every lithe swing of his body as it ducked and dived, grappled and moved with a defensive skill that was impressive. When it came his turn to hold the knife though, it all fell apart. He was disarmed in seconds.

Victor held off his sigh. 

As a Captain, it wasn’t what he wanted to see. As a man though, it made him weak at the knees, heart ready to burst with adoration for the scout.

Yuuri wasn’t built to kill. He tried his hardest - anybody could see that. Sweat flicked off the tips of his  dark bangs every time he turned his head, russet brown eyes intent with focus, body fine tuned from working harder than anybody else in training, whether it came naturally or not… but Yuuri was not built to kill. And Victor loved him for it. 

His lips tweaked in the corner as Yuuri tapped out of the headlock his teammate had him in for the third time in a row, stumbling down onto the grass with a dark look in his eye. It made him look adorable...

“Katsuki!” 

It took Victor a moment to realise that it was his voice that had called out, but he couldn’t bring himself to regret it as Yuuri’s eyes swung round to meet his.

As soon as they settled on Victor, they scrunched shut, eyebrows pitching upwards in vulnerable regret. Yuuri’s body physically sank with his sigh, Victor practically able to hear the swear words running through the cadet’s head. Did he think he was in trouble? No, that was good, Victor told himself - at least in front of the other soldiers. Yuuri was keeping up a good pretence in front of the others. They couldn't know that Victor simply couldn't get enough of Yuuri. 

When Yuuri’s eyes opened again, Victor jerked his head to the side. He couldn’t stop the amused tweak of his lips as he did so. He was too excited. “With me.”

He turned on his heel.

His hands clasped behind his back as he walked - more to stop the excited fidget of his fingers than anything else. He was already being reckless in this. Calling Yuuri aside in front of the whole squad, leading him into the forest alone; it caused enough heads to turn as they passed without a suspicious spring in Victor’s step to make it worse. No, he kept his arms stiff and proper, steps quick and efficient, and didn’t turn his head to see if Yuuri was following. He could feel that he was without having to look. 

It was like Victor was fine tuned to the cadet, hardwired to know when Yuuri’s eyes were on him and feel it every time he moved closer. It set Victor’s blood alight, heart skipping a beat on instinct. He hadn’t felt so alive in years; not even from fighting, from killing. Yuuri Katsuki sparked something new inside him, something he didn’t remember feeling since he’d first signed up as a cadet himself. It was exhilarating. Victor couldn’t get enough of it.

The grin stretched wide and uncurbed over his face, unable to hold back the excitement bubbling away behind the surface as he stepped through the thick line of the forest. His heart beat wildly in his breast, a hand brushing over the rough bark of the trees as they ventured deeper. Victor could hear Yuuri clumsily follow behind. 

In that moment, Victor knew that one day, this infatuation would ruin his life. Maybe even kill him. There was no restraint when it came to Yuuri Katsuki - as the traitorous tightening in the front of his trousers showed. 

There was only need. 

Raw, primal, and so much more natural than the rest of the cruel reality they lived in. It was stronger than bloodlust. Stronger than just the will of men.

One day, it would ruin Victor’s life. But he knew already - the thick ceiling of interlocked tree branches padded with leaves granting the lovers shadow and shade - that he would never regret it. He couldn’t regret it.

He pressed Yuuri against a tree without warning. His blood sang at the thud as Yuuri’s back hit the branch, erection almost painful at the whimpering gasp that bled through Yuuri’s sinful lips.

He kissed him like it was his last day on Earth.

The Captain’s body smothered over Yuuri’s, hands falling to the cadet’s hips, and Victor kissed him hard and fast as if they hadn’t kissed in years. In reality they’d kissed yesterday. And the day before. And the day before that, Yuuri laid back over the tables in the cafeteria, his legs wrapped tight around Victor’s waist while the Captain had wrestled with their belts-

His mouth grazed off Yuuri’s breathlessly, foreheads pressing together as Victor’s lungs fought for air. His eyes stayed shut, lips flickering in a smile. “I've wanted to do that all day.”

He spent too much time thinking about Yuuri Katsuki. It haunted his dreams, flashed in front of his eyes when he was awake, kiss lingering on Victor’s lips until the next time they met up under the cover of moonlight like the sweetest poison, slowly driving him mad. He embraced it willingly. But this time, he couldn’t wait for sundown - not after the way Yuuri’s body had moved out there, lithe, and graceful and beautiful.

Victor clung onto the memory for half a second longer before he dared open his eyes again. He wasn’t sure what he would find if he opened them so for a few precious moments, he didn’t.

A part of him was still waiting to wake up and find it was all nothing but a dream. Being with Yuuri felt like bliss, like walking on air. They fit so well together, so perfectly - like they were made for each other. Surely it was too good to be true? And while Victor would happily surrender his soul and was more than willing to throw away his career for his lust for Yuuri, he still couldn’t quite believe that Yuuri would risk all that in turn for him too. Nobody had ever cared about Victor like that. In two short, precious weeks, Victor knew that he was hopelessly lost.

And he was still waiting for the day when Yuuri would press his hands against Victor’s chest instead of pull him closer, for when he turned his mouth away, for when his eyes glowed with distaste instead of lust when they looked upon Victor. One day, surely Yuuri would fall out of love with their romance. He didn’t need to risk everything the way Victor did.

Until that day though, Victor would greedily take everything that Yuuri was willing to share with him without question.

And when he did open his eyes, what he saw was a blessing; Yuuri was a little breathless too, his little huffs of breath warm over Victor’s lips, his eyes fluttered shut and a smattering of adorable pink over his cheeks. 

The ghost of a smile flickered over Yuuri’s lips. “Me too.”

Victor didn’t deserve this, he thought as Yuuri peeled his eyes open and Victor lost himself helplessly in warm pools of hazel. It was like coming home.

His body surged against Yuuri’s and his lips attached themselves to the skin at the side of the cadet’s neck to hide his groan of want. Victor couldn’t help himself. Yuuri’s skin tasted warm, tang of sweat sharp on Victor’s tongue and something sweet behind it, something uniquely Yuuri that Victor couldn’t put a name to.

Fingers pulled at the collar of Yuuri’s shirt, dragging it across his shoulder and revealing more tanned skin to Victor’s hungry gaze. He felt the cadet shudder beneath him, gasping into Yuuri’s skin as Yuuri’s hips flexed and grazed the bulge in the front of his trousers against Victor’s.

The Captain fastened his mouth against Yuuri’s shoulder and sucked hard until Yuuri whimpered, feeling the blood vessels under the cadet’s skin burst satisfyingly. 

His tongue stroked over the bruising skin, soothing the wound Victor was branding on Yuuri’s body with sharp flicks. He couldn’t help but think about all the other places on Yuuri’s body that Victor would love to use his tongue like that, the other parts of him that Victor would rather be sucking on…

Not here though.

They were pushing their luck as it was, reckless and careless with lust. 

And Victor was just making it worse for himself. If he couldn’t resist Yuuri before, how would he ever now? Knowing Yuuri would be strolling around with his marks on his skin beneath his shirt - Victor’s marks - just a drag of a fabric away from being revealed. Marks or no marks though, Victor wondered if he’d ever get enough of Yuuri Katsuki.

 

* * *

 

“I know that face.” Christophe mused with a smirk one late evening, eyes flickering up as Victor closed the door of the second-in-command’s dorm behind him. “That’s your ‘ _ I just came _ ’ face. Come on, spill. Who?”

Victor couldn’t help the grin spreading over his face, cheeks aching with how wide it was. It wasn’t his fault. How could he be anything but ecstatic? The adrenalin of his orgasm was still slowly sinking into his bones and the sight of Yuuri Katsuki knelt between his legs, letting Victor fuck his pretty little mouth to his heart’s content behind the cafeteria… his cock twitched in his trousers all over again at the enticing memory.

It wasn’t uncommon for Victor to come back to his office and find Christophe sat there at his desk, legs stretched up on the table and arms behind his head. It was a lot more amusing than the military plans and assignments that usually waited for him instead.

“Remember that cadet at the wall the other day?”

Christophe’s brow furrowed. “The cute one that looked like he was going to cry?”

Victor winced – he’d tried to forget about that part. To be fair, Yuuri had been giving him plenty of reasons to forget about it since.

It couldn’t be that he wasn’t happy to see Victor that day. It just couldn’t. He’d practically thrown himself at Victor when they’d been on the other side of the wall, all too enthusiastic in their making out. And the handjobs. And the blowjobs. That look couldn’t have been for Victor. Something must have happened at home. At least, that’s what Victor chose to tell himself, convinced himself to believe.

“Yes,” he finally said stiffly. “That one.”

He was expecting a smirk, a wiggle of the eyebrows – the usual suggestive nonsense Chris trailed out when Victor told him about his fancies. So he was surprised when Chris’s grin just slipped flat.

His head shook slowly. “Victor, no…”

“What?” Victor frowned.

“He’s a cadet...”

Victor just blinked at him. “You’ve fucked cadets before.”

His best friend’s face just crinkled, unconvinced. “But this one …” His head shook again. “After what happened with the bonfire-”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Victor sighed before Chris could say it, shrugging his jacket off and turning to run his fingers through his bangs in the mirror on the wall. Chris wouldn’t be able to see his disappointment from that angle. “It’s weird.”

He never did ask why Yuuri had never spoken to him again after the bonfire, but he half didn’t want to know. Whatever it was couldn’t be good. And why ruin whatever it was they were building by reminding Yuuri that he’d already dumped Victor once – practically offering for him to do it again! No, Victor didn’t want that. Some things he was happy to not know.

Instead, he wondered over to the cabinet where he usually kept his wine, plucking out a bottle of champagne that he’d been saving and two glasses. He didn’t care. He was celebrating.

“This feels really risky Victor.”

Victor ignored Christophe’s grave tone as he popped the cork on the bottle, warm bubbles running over his fingers. Usually, he would have it chilled before he drank it, but he was drinking on impulse and he needed to drink  _ now _ , not after an hour of icing the bottle.

He poured into the two glasses, watching the bubbles pop and dance with minimal enjoyment. “Everything we do is a risk.”

It came out terser than he’d intended, voice stiff and tone hard. He couldn’t help it. He’d thought Christophe would be happy for him, happy that he’d finally reconnected with the love of his life after a stony six months of silence. Obviously not…

“This is different to Titans, Victor. This is where you lose your life but still have to live through it. You could ruin your career!”

“Killing and leading countless men and women to their deaths…” Victor took a long swig of his champagne, letting the bubbles pop on his tongue and hoping that they would somehow lighten up the dark mood he’d settled in. His eyes rolled away from his best friend. “Some career.”

A sigh answered him.

“You can’t save everybody, Victor.”

Victor visibly winced at that, glass swaying in his hand. The gasp choked off in his throat. Yes he could, he argued silently in his head – because otherwise, what was the point in fighting?

 

* * *

The wood of the cabin was ridiculously hard and the ridges extremely uncomfortable pressing into Yuuri’s spine, but he didn’t want to move apart for anything in that not moment - not while the Captain’s hand worked him in fast, hard strokes between them. Rough kisses swallowed his moans to keep him quiet, Victor grinding his own clothed hardness against Yuuri’s thigh.

A part of Yuuri wanted to reach for Victor too, but all he could do was brace one hand back against his dorm cabin and curl the other in the sleeve of Victor’s jacket, clinging on for dear life.

He couldn’t shake the unease at just how public they were. The moon shone high above them in the blackened night sky, their only company in the dead of night amongst the squad barracks. But they were still among the barracks, surrounded by sleeping soldiers with nothing but but wooden doors holding them back from being discovered. All it would take was one too loud moan to wake somebody up, one late night runner trying to escape their nightmares and they could be discovered. It could be all over.

It didn’t seem to bother the Captain as much as it bothered Yuuri. Probably because whoever might catch them, Victor could make it so they never got the chance to tell that tale. Because he could make Yuuri disappear too, and then where would that soldier’s proof be?

Still, Yuuri couldn’t relax. It left him painfully hard, enjoying Victor’s touch too much to want him to stop but not enough to be able to come. He was too tense. He just couldn’t.

His mouth grazed back from Victor’s hungry lips. “Victor, my roommate-”

Something muffled against Yuuri’s lips cut him off in another hard kiss, something that sounded suspiciously like a ‘don’t care’. Of course, Victor didn’t - but Yuuri did. If they were going to get caught by anyone, if anybody was to discover their secret and become an urgent problem that needed to be  _ removed _ , Yuuri prayed harder than ever that it wouldn’t be Phichit. Not his best friend. Anybody but him…

Victor’s fist twisted around the top of Yuuri’s length and he gasped into Victor’s mouth, hand clinging to his jacket for support. He was very much aware of the hard muscle inside the sleeve, bulking out the garment snugly. His knees went weak - Victor’s thumb smeared the precum over his tip with teasing swirls.

Yuuri bucked into the Captain’s hand before he could help it. 

Just when he thought he wouldn’t be able to make it - wouldn’t be able to relax enough to come - Yuuri felt the familiar rush of heat through his blood, the unmistakable tightening in his gut. 

His thigh pushed firm against the bulge in the front of Victor’s trousers, tasting the moan on the Captain’s lips as he did so. It was wrong, Yuuri couldn’t help but think. He was supposed to be making the Captain feel good, not the other way around. Yuuri hadn’t even  _ touched _ Victor yet…

He couldn’t stop it, Yuuri quickly realised. He couldn’t hold himself back. His eyes angled upwards as Victor all but stole the last rational thoughts from his head, brushing his mouth off the Captain’s with a breathless gasp. Victor’s lips just attached themselves to his throat instead, moaning quietly into Yuuri’s skin like he was just as close as Yuuri was, his kisses hot, heavy and urgent. It was hot. It was intoxicating. 

It was too much.

The stars went in a haze of white as the coil snapped in Yuuri’s gut, pleasure bursting like fireworks behind his eyes. He came the way only Victor could make him - with everything. 

Mind, body and soul erupted with pleasure. His body arched from the wall of the cabin - arched into Victor’s hand - his heart wrestling against his ribcage with a frantic beat that would have bordered on painful if Yuuri had had the mind to register such things in that moment. Instead his mind was floating up with the stars, too lost in bliss to care about anything else. His eyes scrunched shut, knees going weak. 

Vaguely, he felt Victor groan hard against his throat.  _ Felt  _ it. It reverberated along his skin, sound only just muffled, and the tiniest flash of teeth grazing Yuuri enough that another pulse jolted through his softening cock. The air punched hard out of Yuuri’s chest.

He was gasping when he finally peeled his eyes open, a boneless mess against his barrack. It was still sinking in what was happening.

Victor’s forehead had dropped down to Yuuri’s shoulder and he was breathing heavy, his eyes hidden behind his curtain of grey bangs. His hand wiped lazily at Yuuri’s waist, wet fingers swiping under his shirt. The evidence of Yuuri’s release smeared over his own skin - out of sight - while Victor’s spare hand righted Yuuri’s trousers modestly back into place.

Yuuri felt the Captain’s lips move against the side of his neck as Victor’s head turned, curving into a soft smile. “Yuuri…”

That one word brought Yuuri back to his senses. 

He sobered up quickly. 

It was Victor’s turn, he thought, blinking himself back to the real world, forcing his body to come back to life as it slowly pulled back the pieces of his orgasm shattered soul. Victor was egging him on, reminding him whose pleasure was  _ really  _ important there.

He didn’t move though - not like Yuuri thought he would have done. Victor didn’t pull him closer. He didn’t guide the cadet’s hand to his straining erection or push Yuuri to his knees. Even his hips stopped grinding, easing back as Yuuri felt the once insistent hardness from before just… gone. Had Victor moved away from him that much already?

Yuuri’s hand fell numbly away from the sleeve of Victor’s jacket as the Captain took a step back. A step back. A step  _ away. _

The breath hitched suddenly in Yuuri’s chest - but not for the reasons he’d thought.

The was no angry, jealous glare piercing through him at selfishly accepting his own pleasure over granting Victor his. There was no scowl. There were no narrowed eyes.

Instead, there was Victor - soft eyed and softly smiling, a vision of doe-eyed ethereal beauty in the glowing moonlight. It was the most perfect thing Yuuri had ever seen. Long, slender fingers curled gently around Yuuri’s, lifting his hand to Victor’s face.

“Goodnight, Yuuri.”

The words murmured against Yuuri’s knuckles, smothered with a gentle, lingering kiss that made Yuuri’s eyes shoot wide with surprise. His heart stopped dead in his chest.

It kickstarted back to life the second Victor turned away though, dropping his fingers.

“Victor, wait-”

His hand shot out before he could help it, before he realised what he was doing. It was too late by then though. By the time he’d realised that he’d just  _ grabbed the Captain _ \- Victor’s swinging hair shining in the evening light as he turned - his fingers had already closed around Victor’s wrist, were already pulling him back.

Heat flared instantly over Yuuri’s cheeks, gaze falling the second they glimpse sparkling blue. They darted down to Victor’s wrist, where Yuuri’s fingers were still holding his Captain. Why couldn’t he let go?

“I…” How could he say this? His gaze strayed across to the front of Victor’s trousers instinctively, knowing what he wanted - what Victor must want. “Y-you-” Yuuri swallowed thickly, eyes pressing shut. His fingers uncurled from Victor’s wrist, and trailed a slow tentative path towards Victor’s groin across the top Victor’s thigh. He hoped it was enough to get his meaning across. He wasn’t sure he was brave enough for anything else. Finally, his eyes flickered open. “Can I?”

His gaze met Victor’s dead on, eyes round and asking, as if being doe eyed would soothe some of the irritation Yuuri knew must be bubbling away beneath the Captain’s surface. He hadn’t come after all. He’d just seen to Yuuri, and had received nothing in return. Of course, the Captain was angry. He had to be.

The look of shock horror that flashed in Victor’s eyes was just … some sort of cover? “Well, um,” Victor tripped over his words. 

Yuuri frowned.

Victor never tripped over his words. It was so strange that Yuuri didn’t even register that it was real at first, barely heard it until Victor’s hand shot for his wrist the second Yuuri’s hand inched ever closer to his groin. 

“Yuuri, wait-”

It was too late though.

Yuuri’s fingers brushed over the front of the Captain's trousers, over where he had been straining with need just moments ago. 

Now there was nothing. 

Yuuri’s eyes bolted up to the Captain’s, feeling the shock drain the colour on his face. Had Victor - no, he couldn’t have, Yuuri dismissed instantly. There was no way that he would. Victor was an experienced lover. He couldn’t-

The rosy blush spreading over his cheeks said that he could though. Yuuri felt his own face warm in a mirror image of his Captain’s.

After a stiff second, Victor cleared his throat. “As I said, Yuuri,” he said, an almost shy smile toying on his lips. Something danced in his eyes that Yuuri couldn’t quite put a name to - or wasn’t sure he was brave enough to try. Another lingering kiss pressed against the corner of Yuuri’s mouth. “Goodnight.”

 

* * *

 

The back of Yuuri’s hand swallowed his moans, sending shivers over his wet skin as his back leaned heavily against the shower wall. The shower had long switched off, but water still ran slick over Yuuri’s skin, droplets splashing down off the tips of his sodden hair.

Right down onto Victor Nikiforov’s porcelain cheeks.

The Captain was on his knees for Yuuri, hands braced on his thighs and pretty, pink lips stretched tight around his dick.

Vibrations sung up his length, tongue flicking against his tip in a way that had him sinking his teeth into the flesh at the base of his thumb to hold back his moans. It was heavenly. It was better than Yuuri had ever dreamed of – and he had dreamed _a lot._

The Captain was an absolute vision before him; stark naked, pale skin glistening from the sheen of water, bangs wavy and dripping over one side of his face … and the way his plump lips moved over Yuuri’s cock was something that lit Yuuri’s blood on fire. His tongue licked and swirled, stroked and flicked – driving Yuuri crazy with sensation. And all the while his gaze was intense, blue fire watching Yuuri’s every reaction and sinking deeper with every moan that bled from Yuuri’s lips.

Yuuri couldn’t last. He could feel his cock swelling, heat already curling in his gut. He couldn’t help it. How was the Captain so good at this?

His eyes fluttered shut, back of his head thudding against the shower wall. It took everything in him not to thrust into the Captain’s mouth, to chase down the release Victor was so effortlessly drawing from him. His hand fell away from his face, letting his moans ring out around the empty showers.

The front door thudded.

“Yuuri?”

Yuuri’s hand slapped back over his face, eyes shooting wide with horror. Victor pulled off him, nose nuzzling into the dip in Yuuri’s hipbone and breath sighing quietly over his skin.

For a moment, neither of them dared move.

Slow, tentative footsteps echoed around the showers, every one like a spear through Yuuri’s heart, screwing his ribcage tighter and tighter. He breathed heavily he into his palm, every one sounding impossibly loud. Beneath him, Victor didn’t make a sound.

“Yuuri?”

Yuuri nearly gasped.

The first time his name had rung out his mind had been too logged with lust to register anything but the shock horror of being caught, but this time, he _heard_ it. Phichit. It was Phichit.

Relief, anger and fear hit him all at once. Ice ran through Yuuri’s veins, just imagining what might happen to Phichit if he took just a few more steps, saw him and Victor in such a compromising position … there was no way to explain it away rationally. Phichit would know. Their secret would be out. Victor Nikiforov wouldn’t be able to let a secret like that float around the barracks.

He nearly yelped when a tingling sensation tickled at his hipbone, jumping against the shower wall. His fingers clawed at his face to hold in his shout of surprise.

His eyes shot downwards.

And nearly popped out of his skull.

The tip of Victor’s nose slowly dragged over Yuuri’s pelvis, grazing the skin ever so softly and leaving goosebumps in its wake. Warm breath followed, quietly sighing a trail back to Yuuri’s dick. It was rock hard.

Yuuri whimpered into the skin of his palm at the wicked grin flashed up at him, feeling what precious little blood that wasn’t in his groin shoot to his face. He knew exactly what Victor was going to do long before he did it. Those perfect lips kissed and nipped teasingly at the base of his length, bright blue eyes sparkling with … amusement? Was Victor _enjoying_ nearly being caught? Maybe - if the fresh wave of attention he lavished over Yuuri’s dick was anything to go by.

Yuuri’s heart pounded a mile a minute, caught between a rock and a hard place. He couldn’t make a sound - though he wanted to make _so much more_ than just a sound with the way Victor’s mouth sucked on the side of his cock, tongue worshipping over the head. He gasped for breath as quietly as he could, teeth crashing down on his lower lip before anything more incriminating could spill free.

He wouldn’t be able to hold back forever though - not with the things Victor was doing. And when he couldn’t… Yuuri scrunched his eyes shut, tipping his head back against the shower wall. He couldn’t bear to look.

The footsteps sounded closer.

“Chulanont!”

Phichit paused.

Even Victor stopped when Christophe Giacometti’s voice rang out through the showers, a tiny crinkle pressing between his eyebrows.

Yuuri wasn’t sure he had the capacity to be shocked anymore, heart just in a permanent state of panic by that point. His eyes peeled open, staring wide eyes at the tiles across their shower cubicle.

He listened to Phichit’s boots shift as he turned. “Sir?”

“My office. Now.”

For a moment, there was silence. Pin drop silence. Yuuri could practically see the frown furrowing his best friend’s brow, wondering what he could have possibly done wrong. _Just go,_ Yuuri willed desperately. Getting chewed out for being late in the showers was better than finding out the truth. He was lucky Christophe had checked when he had.

Unless… unless it wasn't luck. Unless Christophe wasn't there by accident. Unless he knew something …

Yuuri felt his body tense, Victor’s hand moving to his hip as he did. He couldn't help it. Did he - did Christophe know about him and Victor? Sure he'd distracted Phichit and Yurio at the wall but that could have just been following orders from his Captain. He might not have known the reason why.

At least, Yuuri might have believed that if he hadn't remembered the mischievous sparkle from the second in command’s gaze that day. He knew-

“Sir.”

Phichit’s tone sounded defeated - even more so than the reluctant footfalls that followed, dragging himself back to the door. There was a moment the steady beat paused. Only for a moment. In the next, Yuuri could hear the way Phichit’s footsteps bounced off the walls of the changing room beyond, heard the distant thud of a door closing.

“You need to be more careful.”

Yuuri wasn't even upset by Chris's curt comment as the door creaked shut behind him, thud bouncing around the showers as Victor and Yuuri were once again alone.

Not that it mattered anymore.

Yuuri felt it long before he dared look down - he'd gone soft. The moment was gone.

The Captain rose slowly to his feet, crystal eyes clashed with conflict. They looked far away lost somewhere in his own thoughts. Yuuri didn't dare try and place the emotion behind them. It looked like another dangerous secret.

“You know we could-”

Victor’s teeth snag his lower lip just in time, just before he could say something _really_ stupid. It was too soon, too much, and Yuuri probably wouldn’t want-

“What?”

Yuuri just frowned at him - innocent as a dove. Those russet brown orbs just looked so beautiful.

He couldn't resist them. “We could always..." Victor shrugged in what he hoped looked a casual way. Inside, he was screaming. “Go to my sleeping quarters. You know, if you want…”

For a second, Yuuri just stared. His eyebrows pinched, lips ghosting apart like he was analysing the most complicated puzzle he'd ever seen, trying to work it out. Victor could practically see the cogs of his mind working behind those stunning eyes. Figuring out how to tell Victor that was too close, no doubt.

Disappointment splashed over Victor like a bucket of cold water before Yuuri had even said a word. He stepped back, eyes already falling to mask his letdown.

He wasn't really prepared for the answer that hit his ears half a second later.

“Okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took unspeakably long to update and I'm sorry! But this story actually has a plan now and now that the [other main series](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10421280/chapters/23009271) I'm working on is drawing to a close, I can start putting more time into this one.
> 
> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Keep tabs on my tumblr [here](https://justrae2010.tumblr.com/) and check out my other YOI fics [here](http://archiveofourown.org/users/justrae2010/pseuds/justrae2010)
> 
> Please drop a comment before you go !


	4. Chapter 4

Yuuri stared at the smooth, polished wood of the Captain’s office door with wide eyes, breaths short and shallow in his lungs. A small piece of paper twisted nervously in his fingers. A cold sweat started to prick at the back of his neck.

It had been a fortnight since he’d last seen Victor. A whole fortnight. The day after the  _ shower incident _ , the Captain had been called behind the walls on some urgent business, not even enough time to say goodbye before he’d left. Yuuri didn’t know the details. Didn’t expect to. What he expected even less was to find a note slipped into his harness from Christophe during his gear inspection two weeks later, elegant words scribed in unmistakable handwriting. It wasn’t signed. It didn’t need to be. Yuuri knew exactly who it was from the moment he’d clapped eyes on it, from the moment that he’d read the words summoning him to the Captain’s office.

Victor was back.

And he still wanted Yuuri.

A part of Yuuri was glad. If he could still be of service to the Captain, then Victor couldn’t be displeased with him, couldn’t be looking for a way to  _ get rid of him _ as such.

But then again, this was different. This wasn’t wild handjobs behind the barracks or fumbling shower sex. This was Victor’s  _ office  _ that Victor was inviting him into _. _ Where he worked, where he slept, where he lived, where he was the man behind the Captain… this was Victor’s personal space. This would change everything.

The paper in Yuuri’s hands – once smooth and perfect – was now ripped and ragged, twisted in his fingers as he stood outside the door, gathering the courage to actually knock. He’d lost count of how long he’d actually been there. Minutes? Hours? He wasn’t sure anymore. It was definitely later than the time stated on the card though. He was late. That was bad.

Yuuri gulped hard, fingers trembling as he reached out slowly. He could do this. It was no different to what they’d done before, he tried to tell himself, burying the scrunched note in his pocket. The same old meaningless fucking, just a new location. That was all…

Only that wasn’t all.

Yuuri’s fingers paused and his breath hitched. His already round eyes pricked a fraction wider, every instinct he had bristling with the urge to just turn around and run.

Why had Victor invited him here? For more than just handjobs and blow jobs? Victor was already Yuuri’s first kiss, the first person to touch him so intimately… but knowing it meant nothing to the Captain while Yuuri had looked at the man dreamily for years twisted any bliss Yuuri might have gotten from it. He still enjoyed it - how could he not enjoy Victor’s naked body pressed up against his? But it was wrong. It wasn’t what he’d imagined. In his fantasies, Victor hadn’t had him pressed up against the outside of the wall with Titans reaching up from below, a very real reminder of what could  _ accidentally _ happen if Yuuri crossed the Captain in the wrong way.

He was building himself for a disastrous fall - from heartbreak or a painful death, he wasn’t yet sure. It wasn’t enough for him to stop though. As terrified as he was, if Victor asked, Yuuri knew he would always say yes. He couldn’t help it.

It was disgraceful.

His fingers leaned forward again regardless though. Already Victor’s beautiful aquamarine eyes were in his mind, looking at him like Yuuri was the only thing in the world…

The door yanked open.

Yuuri’s loose fist hovered square between Victor Nikiforov eyes.

Shock flashed through the Captain’s gaze, drowning out the brief, softer look they had held the moment he’d stepped into the doorway before they’d lifted to Yuuri - only for a moment - but still there. It had looked like disappointment. Like sadness. It hadn’t suited him. What did Victor Nikiforov have to be disappointed about? Yuuri couldn’t help but wonder.

One splash of surprise wiped whatever it had been out of existence though, cerulean eyes the size of dinner plates ogling over Yuuri’s face like Victor had seen a ghost.

Yuuri’s heart bolted into his mouth. 

For a moment, neither of them said anything. Eyes met and held, lips parted with unspoken words, and the hard thud of heartbeats was practically as loud as cannon fire in the silence. Nobody moved. Nobody made a sound.

Yuuri drank in Victor like he hadn’t seen him in years instead of mere weeks. He’d changed slightly; a new little crease wrinkled between his eyebrows, lingering even as the frown furrowing his brow lifted. Something had happened. Something to make him worried. Yuuri couldn’t help but wonder what it was that Victor could have been told behind the wall to make him so distressed. He’d seen the Captain tense before. Seen him calm with the force of a raging storm behind his eyes. Seen him blank and unreadable, secrets clutched close to his chest. Whatever happened though, Yuuri had never seen Victor  _ worried  _ before _.  _

Unless he’d been caught.

With Yuuri.

Yuuri’s heart stopped dead at the thought. Maybe that was why he was here, completely out of sight of the rest of the squad. Maybe Victor wanted to quietly finish him off where nobody would miss him...

The thought choked his stumbling apologies, lodging them hard in his throat.

If Victor missed them, he didn’t show it.

The tension visibly left the Captain’s shoulders as his eyes roamed over Yuuri, a flicker of a smile curving his lips. “Yuuri …” His eyes melted into a look softer than Yuuri had ever seen them, sparkling with life and warmth. Almost glistening.  _ Beautiful.. _ . “I thought you wouldn't come… ”

All it took was that soft, almost shy tone in Victor’s voice matched with the pretty pink blush spreading over the Captain’s cheeks for Yuuri to know that he was lost. Hopelessly head over heels. His mouth hung open, gaping gormlessly at the stunning man in front of him like he was just some gorgeous guy and not his  _ superior officer,  _ analysing every little detail of him like a new star in the sky _.  _ He couldn’t help it. Threat or no threat, there was no denying that Victor was the most beautiful being Yuuri had ever seen.

And when Victor raked his fingers through his hair, brushing his silver bangs back from his eyes, he only served to prove that fact further.

Yuuri’s mouth hung open but no words came out, momentarily floored by Victor’s. Victor had made it sound so casual - like Yuuri could just  _ choose  _ to stand up the Captain who had so explicitly summoned him. It was almost laughable! Yuuri didn’t have the presence to laugh though; he was still trying to think of something to say - anything to say! Nothing came to him.

They couldn’t have been caught, Yuuri tried to reason to himself to fill the thick silence. Victor was smiling - albeit twisting into something a little more wicked - and relaxing, bracing his forearm up against the doorframe in a way that accentuated the lithe line of his slim body. It could have been a lure … only it was Victor Nikiforov. He didn’t need a lure to draw Yuuri in before he killed him, if that was what he was going to do. He was the greatest soldier of their time. He could kill Yuuri easily if he wanted to.

Which led Yuuri to breathe out a sigh of relief - he wasn’t going to die today. Victor would have done it already.  Instead, Victor’s eyes slipped lower on his body, hovering on the exposed line of skin in the v-neck of Yuuri’s shirt. Something darkened in his gaze, something hungry.

Yuuri swallowed hard.

A whimper slipped through his lips as the fingers Victor’s spare hand walked teasingly up the front of Yuuri’s chest, making him shudder as the pads grazed over the warm skin between his collarbones.

Victor’s teeth snagged his lower lip, his hooding eyes following the finger tracing lazy circles over Yuuri’s chest. “I’m glad.” His eyes glanced back up to Yuuri’s alight like crystal wildfire. Yuuri’s breath caught. “I’ve very glad.”

His finger hooked in the front strap of Yuuri’s chest harness and pulled.

Hard.

Yuuri didn’t get any warning.

He stumbled forward into the office under Victor’s tug, Victor melting back into the room with all the grace of a god while Yuuri all but fell through the door. His boots sunk under soft carpet, surprising him.  _ Carpet _ . He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt carpet.

Actually, yes he did, he realised with a jolt. Years ago. In the chapel near his parents old onsen; the most holy room dedicated to honouring the walls had been carpeted, soft and luxurious beyond anything Yuuri had ever known then and since. He didn’t remember how he’d come to be in that room. His family had never worshipped the walls. In the end, the walls hadn’t been able to keep them safe. The chapel was probably flat now, rubble ground to dust in what was now Titan territory.

Yuuri’s eyes sank as Victor’s office door thudded shut behind him. It had been a long time since he’d thought about his lost home town beyond how Victor had saved him.

Not that Victor would remember it. He’d saved countless people that day, and Yuuri had just been a boy. The Captain had no idea that the young man he was pulling into his office for sex was the boy he’d saved from certain death years ago, the boy who had loved him wholeheartedly ever since.

He had no idea, and he never would.

Yuuri got a quick glance at the Captain’s office. A dark wood desk, a cabinet, a door, medals in frames on the wall, and the talled necked bottles of alcohol behind a shining wall of glass. Clean, organised...cold.

Wrong.

Yuuri frowned; there was something cold about it, something off. Even though the room was full, it still felt empty. It was too clean, too tidy. It hadn’t been  _ lived _ in. Yuuri just frowned as he noticed it, eyes grazing around the room. It reminded him of the refugee house they’d been taken to after the fall of Wall Maria. Pleasant, but cold and empty. Because there was no love in it, his mother had said. Yuuri remembered how she’d brought back a bunch of flowers one day. They’d had nothing but what was on their back, not even a blanket to their name in that stone cold room packed with three other families - but that one bunch of yellow flowers in the windowsill of that house had still felt warmer than Victor’s office did somehow. It was a sad thought.

Yuuri didn’t get time to linger on it though, on what it might mean - not before Victor was threading a hand through the hair at the nape of his neck and guiding him in for a kiss.

He turned into it willingly, lips parting all too keen for Victor’s touch. He didn’t care. Their lips met - softer than Yuuri was expecting - and Yuuri melted. His eyes closed to the room around him, focusing on nothing but the softness of Victor’s lips, the tender way his mouth moved against his like they were lovers instead of just two men bound by an unspoken contract. For a moment, it felt … normal.

Victor’s mouth moved soft and sweet, his fingers gentle in Yuuri’s hair and tongue stroking against his in a slow, languid dance. Yuuri’s eyes fluttered shut in surrender. It was exactly what he’d always wanted.

Their usual kisses weren’t like this. They were heavy and hot, deep and all consuming. Rushed. Never too long for whoever might walk through whatever door they hid behind and discover their secret in one careless second. That’s all it would take. One second.

In Victor’s office though, it was different. There was no rush. There was no panic. There was nobody that would walk in unawares and catch them in the act. Victor and Yuuri could kiss and fuck for as long as they liked - exactly  _ how _ they liked - and there would be nothing to stop them, nothing to be afraid of. Yuuri felt the tension bleed out of his shoulders as the realisation sank in. In here, he didn’t have to be afraid.

His lips pushed back experimentally against Victor’s. The Captain groaned hard in response, hand tightening on Yuuri’s hip.

Normally, Yuuri was passive. He let Victor kiss him rather than be an active participant. He’d never kissed anybody but Victor before, only all too aware of his lacking experience and non-existent technique. Suddenly though, that didn’t seem to matter, Victor’s lips teasing against his, drawing Yuuri out of his shell like he wanted to see what he could do rather than just take control himself for a change. And why not? They had the time to experiment now.

Then the kisses got hotter.

Victor nipped at Yuuri’s lower lip and Yuuri’s hand reached for the Captain’s upper arm, fingers twisting in his sleeve. The contact anchored him, kept him pinned down to reality while his mind swam with delight.

A firm hand gripped his hips.

What would Victor’s do? Yuuri wondered as the Captain’s palm massaged the soft pocket of fat around his lower waist that just refused to harden into muscle no matter how hard he worked, warm fingers creeping underneath his shirt. There was nothing soft in his touch now. It was all hard and rough, needy with desire. He wouldn’t be surprised if Victor’s grip left bruises. Would he be disappointed with bruises, Victor’s touch pressed into his skin in firm memory of their time together? 

No.

Yuuri would  _ relish  _ them.

A groan slipped through his lips at the thought, swallowed instantly by the Captain’s hungry mouth. He already had Victor’s marks along his shoulder, kissed and bitten into his skin and each one later traced by Yuuri’s spellbound fingertip in the privacy of his bunk when his roommate was asleep, shivering with pleasure at the memory of being gifted them every time he did. Bruises on his hips would be even better.

Victor seemed to think so too, fingers pressing into Yuuri’s skin hard enough to draw a whimper between them. It snapped something inside the Captain.

A hand slipped round from Yuuri’s waist down to his behind, kneading the firm muscle of his ass as Victor’s spare fingers twisted in Yuuri’s hair, anchoring them close. Their hips pressed flush together, both slipping a gasp as the bulges in the front of their trousers touched with a jolt like a live wire.

Yuuri was hard. Very hard. Painfully hard, and the way Victor ground against him was  _ not  _ helping. Even worse though was when Victor leaned back - body still pressed firm against Yuuri’s - but with his eyes blinked back an inch, meeting Yuuri’s head on as he gasped for a sobering breath. Victor’s gaze was molten crystal, swimming with lust. 

It lasted barely a second before Victor leaned back in, closing the gap. His mouth pressed urgently to Yuuri’s, stepping closer against him as if there was any closer he could get.

Maybe there was, Yuuri thought to himself as he stumbled back under the pressure of Victor’s body against his. Victor didn’t stop pressing. Yuuri didn’t stop stumbling back in a mess of bumped knees and scuffing steps that neither of them cared about - not until the backs of Yuuri’s thighs hit the edge of Victor’s desk, blunt line of the wood digging painfully into his skin. His legs parted instinctively, creating space for Victor to slot himself into. Their clothed cocks dragged deliciously. 

Yuuri felt himself whine, leaning his hips harder against Victor’s. He could feel the very solid shape filling out the front of Victor’s trousers, could trace every line and curve of this cock through the material.

Victor would be able to do the same with him.

And did.

Yuuri’s breath caught as the Captain palmed the bulge between his legs, stealing the air right from Victor’s mouth. He bit back a moan instinctively, teeth snagging his lower lip a little too hard. The metallic tang of blood nipped at his tongue.

Around them, the walls were silent, secret, protective. It kept them safe and hidden, locked in their own little world where the rules were their own, where nobody else existed.

In that world, Victor pulled back breathlessly, smiling as his hand rose to cup Yuuri’s cheek. His thumb traced Yuuri’s bottom lip, lingering on where it had split.

“You don’t have to hold back in here, Yuuri,” Victor said, thumbprint tracing little circles of blood in the corner of Yuuri’s mouth, eyes watching the movement with barely contained lust. Blood lust had been his first love after all. He’d never realised before Yuuri though just how damned attractive it could be. “I want to hear you.”

His eyes flickered up in a gaze of molten crystal, punctuating his words home in a way that stole the air right from Yuuri’s lungs. 

Yuuri kissed him in a heartbeat.

Victor was the first one to break the silence, to adhere to his own request, groaning hard the second Yuuri’s mouth made contact with his. It was so unlike Yuuri to take control, to make the first move. Until then, Victor hadn’t realised how much he’d needed it.

He felt the stress of the last two weeks melt away from his tense shoulders, leaning into the younger man and enjoying the firm pressure of Yuuri’s mouth pressing against his, guiding their kiss,  _ taking  _ what he wanted instead of just going along with whatever Victor always started. It was a relief to not have to be the one in charge for once. It was something Victor hadn’t even considered himself to need until then, and to have Yuuri be the one to introduce him… it made the cadet so much  _ hotter _ in Victor’s eyes.

His palm pressed a little harder against Yuuri’s barely restrained erection, enjoying the little moan that slipped between the younger man’s lips in response. Victor lapped it up eagerly, savouring the spike of fire it lit in his blood. Watching Yuuri unravel beneath him was always arousing…

But he wanted  _ more. _

Victor’s hands hooked under the cadet’s thighs and hitched him up. Yuuri stiffened in a heartbeat. His fingers dug deeper into Victor’s jacket, clinging on for dear life and gasping into Victor’s mouth as his feet left the floor.

He could feel Victor’s heart beat through his uniform, pounding away like a drumbeat behind his crisp white shirt. His apple green tie - the exact same shade as the scouts cloaks - was tucked into the line of his shirt between his buttons, the soft material lined with thin strips of gold that glinted in the candlelight around the room. It was almost romantic, the soft light dancing around the room, glinting off the lustful sparkle in the Captain’s eyes and his crisp uniform.

Until Victor swept a careless arm over his desk, sending pens, papers, and god knows what else clattering wildly to the floor. Yuuri was dumped unceremoniously onto the desktop. Neither of them were there for romance, Yuuri quickly remembered.

He didn’t get a moment to grumble at the hardness of the wood or the uncomfortable arch of pain it sent running up his tailbone though - all that was driven to the back of his mind as Victor slotted himself between Yuuri’s parted knees and bowed him back over the desk, Yuuri’s legs wrapping tight around the Captain’s hips instinctively. A hand trailed a solid path up the muscle of his thigh. It held more than just a touch though; like a promise. A promise of what was to come. 

The gasp that tore from Yuuri’s lips was from more than just the hard bulge in the front of Victor’s trousers pressed against his, more than the lips fastening themselves to the side of his neck. More even than the way he could feel Victor’s fingers trembling as they fumbled with Yuuri’s zipper, fighting to free him.

Yuuri did the same back to the Captain, his own hand just as shaky. The anticipation, the adrenalin … the nerves. He couldn’t help it. This time was different.

They’d always stuck to handjobs and blowjobs before because it was quick, fast, and easy to fall apart if someone happened to start stumbling by and nearly catch them. They were easy to rush. Now though, they didn’t need to rush. Yuuri wondered if that would change things, if Victor might want more-

Their erections freed.

A shared groan rumbled between them as the hot flesh of their bare cocks touched, warm, hard and soft at the same time in a way that Yuuri found intoxicating. 

He couldn’t help looking down. Victor’s pale cock was flushed a pretty pink at the head, thick and long with a slow upward curve. It made the tanned skin of his own dick look even darker in comparison, not quite as long as Victor’s but with just as much girth. Victor had never complained before.

In fact, the Captain seemed in just as much awe this time as Yuuri, his eyes staring down between them wide and glowing with something Yuuri couldn’t quite place. Not quite as hot as lust. Not quite as soft as playful. Something in between, something warm that made Yuuri’s heart skip a beat. He felt his cheeks darken as Victor took him carefully in hand, touching him as tentatively as if it was their first time, staring at him like he’d never seen Yuuri naked before.

Though, they’d never had the time to appreciate it before. They’d always been too busy listening out of one ear for intruders, looking over their shoulders, one hand on the door handle - all the times they’d been together in the last month and this was the first time they could relax enough to  _ look _ .

A rosy pink was spreading over Victor’s cheeks the longer he stared, thumb grazing over the tip of Yuuri’s erection and rolling around the little droplet of moisture beaded at the tip.

“You’re so beautiful.”

Yuuri scrunched his eyes shut against the words. He wouldn’t have believed they’d actually come out of Victor’s mouth if he hadn’t caught the Captain’s mumbling lips move out of the corner of his eye.

His face flamed with embarrassment, fighting the urge to bury his face in his hands. How could Victor say that? Yuuri was not beautiful. Yuuri had messy hair, plain eyes, tanned skin that had darkened from training in the sun all day, and still cried when he received a new letter from his mother in the post. He was not beautiful, and he knew it.

Victor was beautiful. Victor had hard of starlight, eyes a delicate shade between blue and green that rippled like water in a cup, body tall and lithe, with all the grace and charm of a king while being the most deadly being behind the walls. The first time Yuuri had realised he’d been in love with the Captain, Victor had had crimson smeared over his alabaster cheek. He was beautiful. Then. Now. Always. It was a fact more resolute than that the sun would be sat in the sky the next morning. 

And when his mouth fell open as their cocks touched, lengths gliding smoothly and his eyes fluttering shut in bliss, he was damned near irresistible. 

Yuuri couldn’t resist kissing him.

 

* * *

Victor was the luckiest man in the world. 

He hadn’t realised it until his first night back from the interior, the first night he’d called Yuuri to his office. He’d paced the length and breadth of the room more times than he could count, stomach twisting anxiously and eyes flickering to the clock on the wall every five seconds. It wasn’t like him to be nervous. But he was. Yuuri Katsuki made him nervous.

There was still another five minutes to go until their agreed meeting time, but already Victor was panicking. He turned on his heel and paced another length, hands twisting behind his back.

Perhaps it had been too much. Perhaps it had been too forward. Chris had told him not to do it, to keep it casual, keep it an arms length away - but Victor hadn’t been able to help himself and the invitation had just blurted from his lips anyway.

He still remembered the quizzical look Yuuri had given him at the time. Victor should have realised then that that was a ‘no’.

But he hadn’t.

Fool that he was, he’d taken Yuuri’s ‘ _ okay’  _ for what it was at face value rather than the obviously polite decline he now understood it to be. He should have known better. He wasn’t a foolish man.

On the wall, the clock hand slid into place, into the hour.

There was no knock on the door, no footsteps, no pebble on the window, no… no, nothing. Yuuri wasn’t there. Yuuri was late. Yuuri was never late…

Yuuri wasn’t coming.

Victor’s heart skipped a beat in his chest, hand raking through his silver bangs and brushing them back from his eyes. He stared at the clock as if he could somehow reverse time, take it all back another five minutes so he could at least cling to some sort of excitement for their date in his office. Was that what their meetings were? Dates? Victor had never really had one to know for sure. From the little he knew though, dates were flowers, dinner, chocolates, walks in the sunset and heated kisses in the rain.

Not sleazy hook ups in the Captain’s office. Victor sighed heavily, face falling into his hands. Of course, Yuuri wasn’t coming. Why would he?

Chris had been right all along. It would be a humiliating walk to the second in command’s dorm for a shoulder to cry on, hoping that Chris still had some of that good wine stashed away that Victor had given him for his birthday. He needed a drink - not just one from his own wall though. As pathetic as he was moping over getting stood up, drinking along about it was just a new level of sad. Chris might just sympathise with him over Yuuri. The drinking though, he would never let Victor live down.

Victor wondered what Yuuri was doing in that moment while he pulled on his brown jacket, straightening the sleeves miserably. Or  _ who  _ he was doing. Maybe he’d found someone new; someone younger, prettier, hotter, less risk of being caught with and someone that wouldn’t cause such a scandal even if they were discovered.

Victor couldn’t say he blamed Yuuri. He was still a young man after all, still had his whole life ahead of him. He was good, smart - he could really make something of himself one day, could make it to Captain himself if he really wanted to. Why risk all that for Victor’s sake?

Still, Victor couldn’t deny the wave of disappointment that crested as he twisted the door handle, already picturing the smug look on Chris’s face when he opened his door to-

…

Yuuri.

Round eyes, hand outstretched, thick, dark eyelashes fluttering adorably with every passing second that Victor just stood there,  _ staring… _

He couldn’t help it. Yuuri was here. Yuuri had come Victor’s heart skipped a beat in his chest, relief lodging itself in a hard lump in his throat that made his eyes water ever so slightly. No, Victor was  _ not  _ crying. He refused to cry, but …  _ Yuuri  _ … Victor swallowed in a way that he hoped was subtle, lips curving in a breathless smile.

“Yuuri…”

* * *

 

 

Yuuri’s finger trailed lightly along the edge of one of the dark wooden frames hung on the wall, glowing eyes admiring the shining gold medal behind the glass.

“Did you really get awarded all these?” he couldn’t help but ask over his shoulder, heart racing in his chest.

Victor looked up from behind the desk, wine bottle paused in its pouring in his hand. Two glasses sat on the desktop, one generously filled with blood red liquid and the other yet to join it. It looked expensive. Luxurious. Yuuri didn’t care about the alcohol though - not when Victor flashed him one of his winning grins, teeth shining across the office.

“They’ve got my name on them, haven’t they?” he winked as he set the wine bottle down, making Yuuri’s heart melt and his toes curl all at once.

Truly, Victor was irresistible.

Yuuri was frozen in place as the Captain hooked his fingers under the full wine glass and sauntered around the edge of the desk, hips swaying deliciously with every step. Yuuri couldn’t help it - his eyes drew southward, lips ghosting apart, and heat pooled in his gut, lifting a warming blush to his cheeks that took his breath away. Surely, Victor had to know what that did to Yuuri?

Across the room, Victor’s eyes glinted, smile widening.

He knew.

His hand reached Yuuri’s hip first, his body pressing flushed against Yuuri’s back while the arm carrying the wine glass wrapped around Yuuri’s chest. Victor tucked his chin in the crook where Yuuri’s neck met his shoulder.

“I got that just after I became Captain,” he said, tilting the glass to the medal on the wall. “Medal of Valor. For what I did the day Wall Maria fell.”

Yuuri stiffened.

In the glass reflection, Victor saw the way the cadet’s eyes shot wide for a split second, heard the quietest hitch of breath. He understood. He watched the colour drain from Yuuri’s reflection in the glass, knew what it meant; he’d been there that day too after all. Only Yuuri didn’t have a medal to show for it - just pain, loss, suffering and ruin. At least he was  _ alive _ . The thought slammed hard into Victor’s heart, tightening the space in his chest uncomfortably.

He took a deep gulp from the wine glass over Yuuri’s shoulder. “There wasn’t much I did though,” he confessed, handing the glass to Yuuri. He took it slowly. His hands were shaking. “It was all chance. I wasn’t even supposed to be there that day …”

Why was he even talking about it?

His eyes dipped down as Yuuri took a long swig from the glass, only coming up for air with a cough when the glass was half empty. Victor didn’t care.

The wine had been a gift from the royal household when Victor had been promoted to Captain. He knew there was no personal favour in it though; it was just a bottle that a servant of a servant of a servant of the king had picked out from a preordained procedure of formality. But it had been worth saving all the same - until now at least. The last month had Victor seriously re-evaluating the true value certain things now held for him.

Like the medal on the wall, for instance.

The hand on Yuuri’s hip wound around his waist instead as Victor reached up with his other arm and unhooked the medal from the wall, staring at it for a moment over Yuuri’s shoulder.

A solid circle no thicker than a coin, with the royal crest imprinted into the gold and the Survey Corps wings of freedom either side of it. Magenta ribbon threaded through the top, folded back over the velvet lined case. Victor had once thought it was beautiful. Now, it just looked like a useless lump of metal.

He didn’t feel anything as he popped the glass out of the frame and folded it under the box, running a thumb pad over the engraved surface of the medallion.  

He didn’t deserve it.

It slipped easily out of the velvet case, the ribbon as soft as silk over the back of his hand. He tossed the case away. Glass too. It made a soft thud as it hit the carpet.

Victor’s fingers slipped beneath the neckline of Yuuri’s shirt as he regarded the medal for a moment, glaring at the lump of metal that meant so much yet so little. Officers fought for medals like this one while cadets simply fought for the right to come home with their lives. Victor hadn’t even tried; he’d just stumbled upon the so called  _ honour _ . Just like with all the other decorations along the wall. He hadn’t done anything brave. If anything, he’d just been fighting for his life too like those other cadets - just in a different way.

The tip of Victor’s nose trailed a slow path along Yuuri’s neck tracing the line of his pulse until it reached his ear. Lips followed. Yuuri’s breath hitched softly as Victor caught his earlobe between his teeth and  _ pulled _ , the cadet’s head tipping back against Victor’s shoulder. A whine bled through the young man’s lips.

Victor’s lips twitched in a smile, Yuuri’s reaction going straight to his groin. He couldn’t help himself. His hips flexed of their own accord, grinding his hardening length against the firm muscle of Yuuri’s behind.

Yuuri all but slacked against him as he did so, his spare hand grasping behind at Victor’s thigh. Victor loved it. Loved seeing the effect he had on Yuuri.

There was one thing he’d love to see even more though.

Yuuri whimpered as Victor pulled his mouth away and eased his body back - just enough to twist the cadet where he stood, sending the half full wine glass tumbling. Victor didn’t care.

He didn’t spare it a second thought as Yuuri’s back thudded hard against the wall, his eyes wide and round in his skull. They looked so pretty, sparkling at Victor with something clashed between shock and fear. He had a right to be frightened, Victor thought, not taking offence. He could only imagine the things going through Yuuri’s head in that moment, could see that  _ he _ wasn’t fully there.

No, a part of him was still back by Wall Maria. Remembering the day his world was ripped apart. Victor could see it in his eyes.

It was sobering.

The backs of his knuckles grazed carefully over Yuuri’s cheek but he could see Yuuri barely felt the contact. Victor let himself stare. Yuuri didn’t notice. He watched over Yuuri like he was nothing short of an angel, touched his soft skin like it was the finest silk, breathed in his air like it was the sweetest poison. He tucked the fringes of Yuuri’s unruly bangs behind his ear, mesmerised by the soft parting of Yuuri’s lips.

A strange satisfaction welled in up Victor’s chest, warm and comforting. He liked this. Liked taking care of Yuuri. Perhaps in another life that could have been his purpose in life.

In this one though, it was just a blessing that Victor could keep him alive.

Yuuri’s chest barely moved, shifting second by second with quiet, shallow breaths. His eyes glazed over more and more with every passing second, less and less of him in Victor’s office in that moment and more back in Shiganshina.

A sigh pressed out of Victor’s chest. His fingers were slow and gentle as they reached up and carefully draped the medal ribbon over Yuuri’s head – like any sudden movements might jolt him back to reality too hard, too fast – following it down with fluttering fingertips until the medallion settled gently between the cadet’s collarbones. The gold glinted in the candlelight, looking good against Yuuri’s tanned skin. It suited him. Victor followed the line of ribbon with a lingering fingertip, barely grazing Yuuri’s skin as if his very touch might brand him. Yuuri was too precious, beautiful like a porcelain doll. Victor could feel his heartbeat through his ribcage.

It made the breath catch in his throat, blown away by the thought that that heartbeat was for  _ him.  _ It still defied his logic – yet here Yuuri was. Risking career and reputation just to see Victor, to be able to have Victor see him like this; gentle, open, vulnerable. It made Victor’s heart ache in his chest, breath shuddering from his lungs at having someone willing to put him first above everything.

Selfish as Victor was, he never wanted to let that go. The pads of his fingers pressed over the left side of Yuuri’s chest, savouring the strong strum of his pulse. Something primal inside him hummed with delight at the sensation.

He never wanted to let  _ Yuuri _ go.

Yuuri blinked as the weight of the medal settled over his chest, but Victor didn’t give his confused frown a chance to fully form before he was surging forward, slotting their mouths together again and forcing Yuuri back. His hips hit the wall with a dull thud. The other medal cases rattled.

Victor devoured the gasp that spilled into his mouth, sound going straight to between his legs and lighting fire through his veins. He sucked on Yuuri’s bottom lip as his hips rolled forward, teasing more delicious noises from Yuuri’s mouth.

Vaguely, he felt Yuuri’s fingers close hard around his upper arm, the cadet clinging to him while Victor’s hands  _ ravished _ over his body. They roamed through his hair, over his waist, his behind, the underside of his thighs…

Victor hitched Yuuri’s leg up around his hip, and willingly said goodbye to his sanity as the outline of their thickening lengths connected.

 

* * *

In the days that followed, more notes slipped in Yuuri’s boots, his gear, as he was handed his meals … none of them were signed, but all bore the distinctive italic script of his Captain.

On day three, one was signed with an elegant heart.

Victor smiled down at his desk every time he wrote one, every time his pen curled around the delicate lines of Yuuri’s name. Two days later, he dotted the ‘i’ with yet another delicate heart, feeling his own thump boldly in his chest.

A week and six visits later, a key joined the note subtly pressed into Yuuri’s palm as he was handed his supper. Yuuri didn’t need to ask what it was for.

The boy that handed it to him had dark eyes that barely glanced at him over thickly rimmed glasses, deliberately looking anywhere but at Yuuri. Did he understand what he’d been instructed to hand over? By whom, to whom? Probably not. Almost definitely not. Victor wouldn’t have handed him the note himself and wouldn’t have referred to Yuuri by name. The boy probably thought he was just ferrying a message between two random - albeit, still forbidden - lovers. Perhaps he knew better to ask. Perhaps he was smart enough to keep his head down.

Yuuri’s fingers just curled around the key and note in one subtle fist, poking them up his sleeve as he shifted the bowl of soup in his hands.

He smiled to himself as he walked away.

* * *

 

 

The next night, Yuuri was on his back, fingers twisting in Victor’s bed sheets and body writhing over the mattress. Victor’s tongue lapped at him slow and sweet, driving him mad with pleasure.

Yuuri’s eyes were scrunched shut against the onslaught, hips rolling into Victor’s touch, gentle, teasing thrusts into the warmth of Victor’s mouth. Victor was just as perfect as ever. His tongue was the perfect pressure, the blissful balance between pushing him closer to the edge and gentle enough to hold his orgasm just about at bay. A thin sheen of sweat rolled over his body shimmering over his trembling skin. Breath shuddered from his lungs, nerves dancing deliciously on the knife edge.

He’d long lost track of time. The last slithers of evening light from when Yuuri had snuck his way into Victor’s office had long disappeared, the world now dark and black outside the windows of Victor’s bedroom. Tiredness nagged at the back of Yuuri’s mind behind his pleasure, quietly betraying how late it was. Later than their usual trysts at any rate.

Yuuri’s shirt hung in tatters on the floor. His shirt was gone, torn from his body by Victor’s greedy hands like the very garment itself offended Victor just by existing. He was pretty sure he’d heard something rip.

None of that mattered though, not while Victor’s tongue was lavishing over his cock in long, teasing strokes. 

The Captain’s eyes were bright blue stars between Yuuri’s thighs, hands cupping the thick, ample muscle of Yuuri’s backside, lifting his hips. He was enjoying himself. His gaze sparkled with amusement and arousal, flashing every time he drew a whimper out of Yuuri and lapped at the fluid leaking from his tip. How long had he been teasing? It felt like hours. 

It was torturous and delicious. It was too much and not enough. Yuuri felt like he was burning up from the inside out with need to just let go, but still he clung to the sweet torment like it was his lifeline.

Victor knew his body better than he did. Knew the exact places to touch, to lick, to caress - to bite, teeth sinking into the seam where Yuuri’s hip met his thigh.

Yuuri whined.

A fingertip brushed over his entrance.

The air sucked in sharply through Yuuri’s lips, every muscle in his body stiffening. Victor stilled too. 

HIs eyes were molten when they glanced up, but guarded. Waiting. Yuuri wasn’t sure what they were saying until Victor’s mouth spelled it out for his, his voice barely louder than a reverent whisper.

“Can I?”

He sounded breathless, like he’d been running around the camp rather than just leisurely sucking Yuuri off in his bedroom. It was intoxicating.

Yuuri’s mind was thick with pleasure, brain cells barely connecting. As long as it felt good, he didn’t really care about the details. And everything Victor did felt good. A thin shudder of fear raced down the back of Yuuri’s spine, but it wasn’t enough to change his mind, only spiking the exhilaration up sharper. 

He couldn’t breathe his ‘yes’ out fast enough.

The smile that curved Victor’s lips was enough to knock the breath Yuuri sucked in right back out of his lungs again, full of pure delight and wicked promise. 

He squeezed Yuuri’s thighs one last time before he pushed up. His mouth crashed down on Yuuri’s, knees bracing either side of Yuuri’s hips and fingers raking through the cadet’s dark hair while his spare hand rummaged at the bedside table. Yuuri didn’t know what he was doing. Yuuri didn’t care. Yuuri was too busy focussing on the way Victor was sucking on his tongue, the way he drew his bottom lip through his teeth.

He didn’t hear the pop of the cap. He didn’t see Victor drizzle the lube over his hand, warming the cool liquid in his fingers. He just gasped into Victor’s mouth as a cool fingertip touched at his entrance, wet and curious. 

It circled around his puckered hole, slow and careful, spreading the moisture gently around his rim. Yuuri’s breath caught with anticipation, heart hammering in his chest. He scrunched his eyes shut.

“Yuuri, are you okay?”

The finger pulled away.

Yuuri didn’t open his eyes, sucking in a calming breath. At least it was supposed to be calming. Instead it came out a lot shakier and a lot  _ louder _ than he’d intended, baring his nerves obviously. 

“What? Y-yeah.”

The press of Victor’s body lifted off Yuuri’s skin, but his warmth still radiated from above, just a fraction out of reach. Yuuri didn’t have the nerve to reach for it.

“You don’t look okay,” Victor said bluntly.

Yuuri heard the creak of the bedsprings as Victor sat back and suddenly his warmth was gone, drawing Yuuri to open his eyes. Victor was sat back on his heels, watching Yuuri from a careful distance with a delicate frown playing on his features. It didn’t suit him. 

Heat splashed over Yuuri’s face with humiliation and he felt his erection soften between his legs. It only made everything worse.

What could he do?

“I just…”  _ tell the truth,  _ was all that came to him. He was never any good at lying anyway. “Never done... _ thisbefore-” t _ he last words came out in a garbled rush, Yuuri’s face on fire and his eyes fanning anywhere but at Victor.

Hands clapped over his face in embarrassment. What was he doing? He couldn’t  _ say  _ that! It didn’t matter! He hadn’t done a lot of things before he’d done them with Victor but he’d never felt the need to share before, just closing his eyes, hoping, and then thankful when whatever it was that Victor did felt good. Why couldn’t he do the same now? It was no different. He was here for Victor’s pleasure after all, not his own.

Out of the corner of his eye though, he caught Victor’s expression soften. He squeaked as the bed groaned slightly with Victor’s lean forward, a warm palm cupping his cheek and brushing his own hand away from his face, guiding his gaze gently back to the Captain’s. Glowing blue eyes sparkled down at him half a second before Victor’s eyelids fluttered shut, mouth leaning down to press against Yuuri’s in a featherlight kiss.

“Oh, Yuuri,” murmured between kisses, purring over his skin. “Why didn’t you tell me. Nevermind. Just trust me, okay? Let me take care of you?”

Victor’s mouth grazed off his, eyes peaking open. Victor’s request shone in his gaze.

“We’ll go slow,” he added. 

Yuuri swallowed hard, feeling more exposed than ever before in all the times Victor had seen him naked. Suddenly, he felt vulnerable. Truly vulnerable. More vulnerable than when he’d stood at the wall edge convinced that the man above him would shove him off to his death. Now he was asking -  _ imploring  _ \- with Yuuri to let him touch him. It was a courtesy - a respect even! - that Yuuri hadn’t prepared for as the Captain’s fuck-thing.

His heart thudded traitorously in his chest, ready to sell his soul itself in that moment. “Okay,” Yuuri said breathlessly. 

Victor’s lips curved in a smile that was … excited actually. Genuinely excited. It lit up his face, crinkled his eyes in the corners, lifted a pretty colour to his cheekbones - Yuuri wanted to stir that look on Victor’s face more often. 

The flutter of his heart as Victor’s mouth dipped down to his - his descending hand trailing a teasing path along Yuuri’s hip - had nothing to do with nerves this time, warmth flooding through him instead of the ice of fear. Victor’s spare hand combed through Yuuri’s hair, soft and smooth. Then his fingers caught in the stands and  _ pulled.  _ Yuuri’s head jerked to the side, moan of startled pleasure swallowed by Victor’s hungry lips.

His thighs parted of their own accord, tempted by the thin, moist trail playing at the dip of his pelvis. Asking, this time. Waiting. Yuuri hitched a thigh higher up Victor’s leg in consent. 

He willed his body to relax, letting the tense muscles in his chest and thighs slacken with a sigh, but it was a memo that didn’t quite reach  _ everything. _ His hole fluttered as Victor roamed a curious fingertip over it, spreading the slick moisture. He didn’t rush, he didn’t push; he just stroked at his own leisurely pace, until the hitch of Yuuri’s breath started to settle and his body lost it’s tremble.

When it did, he slipped the tip of his finger inside. It was barely an inch - still and slick inside Yuuri - but the sensation alone was  _ weird _ enough to send Yuuri’s teeth crashing down on his lower lip. His eyes shut tight.

Victor tensed above him, the air stiffening.

“You okay?”

“I-I’m okay.”

“Okay…”

Victor sounded just as breathless as Yuuri felt as he let more of his finger slip inside. It didn’t hurt per say. But it felt strange and tingling. If it had been with anybody else, Yuuri would have said it felt so weird it was wrong. But it was Victor, and Yuuri wanted everything that the Captain would give him, weird or not.

And when Victor’s finger twisted, stroking around his rim with just the  _ tiniest  _ amount of pressure, Yuuri couldn’t help but gasp.

“Yuuri, look at me.”

The tone of Victor’s voice was deep and low, husky and raw with need, and firm with command in a way that Yuuri was trained to respond to without even thinking about it. 

His eyes snapped open.

Victor’s lips were parted above him, plump and pink and just begging to be kissed. Yuuri wanted to kiss him. For once, he didn’t second guess what he wanted. He wasn’t sure if it was the rampant beat of his heart, the commanding tone of Victor’s voice, or the finger up his ass, but Yuuri dove his fingers through the soft hair at the back of Victor’s head and pulled him down for a rough kiss.

Teeth clashed and tongues curled, and Yuuri was lost to everything else in that moment - except the curl of Victor’s finger inside him.

Sparks flew.

“Ah!”

The cry slipped through his lips before he could help it, back arching off the bed. Sensation jolted up his spine, white bursting behind his eyes.

He felt Victor’s smile press into his collarbone, teeth bare and cheeks tight. A chuckle ghosted quietly over his skin. Yuuri was too lost in the sensation to care much, fingers twisting in Victor’s hair as his finger pressed back down on that space inside him. 

Victor’s finger kept rubbing. It grazed off that spot just long enough for Yuuri to catch his breath and then brushed over just in time to steal it away again.

He peppered kisses over Yuuri’s chest, light and carefree. His fingers were gentle. Yuuri’s eyes fluttered shut. It almost felt how it might be with a boyfriend. A laugh sprung from his lips at the thought, at how ludicrous it was.

It coincided with when Victor’s lips brushed over Yuuri’s nipples.

“You like that?”

The smile flickered over Yuuri’s lips again. 

“Yes.”

Honestly, he wasn’t sure if he had. He hadn’t remembered any more sensation than normal flaring up when Victor had kissed him there, but he was quickly learning that staying at least open minded to Victor’s broadening of his sexual awakening was more than likely to end more pleasantly than not. He wasn’t going to say no to Victor kissing him, in whatever form it took.

A wet tongue flicked over his nipple and this time, Yuuri gasped, arching into the contact. His eyes pinched tighter shut. 

Victor kept descending. 

His mouth travelled over Yuuri’s stomach, over his hip bone, down the v-line that led to his groin … Yuuri groaned embarrassingly loud as Victor’s lips closed over the head of his cock.

It was matched with another finger. 

The stretch burned a little, but if anything it made Yuuri’s pleasure spike just that little bit more. It was like that little bit of pain when the fight on the field was getting too much, that little flare that forced his mind to step back because it just couldn’t take it anymore and let his body take over. And his body liked it. It sparked the adrenalin in his veins. It set his nerves alight all over again.

“ _ Victor.” _

Victor’s lips stuttered over Yuuri’s length, his fingers curling.

It was enough.

Sparks flew behind Yuuri’s eyes. They snapped open but saw nothing but white as his body convulsed on the bed, lifting off the mattress. Warmth flooded through him, soft and comforting and then too hot - all in the space of a second. Only it went on. Again and again. Yuuri gasped for air but the oxygen barely hit his lungs. His fingertips tingled, going slack in Victor’s hair. 

The cry his orgasm wrangled from him choked in his throat, sound barely recognisable when it finally broke free.

Victor hummed over him when it did. 

It was a while before the trembling in his thighs and the tightening of his balls settled, before the breath stopped catching in his throat and his mind started to work again.

The first thing he noticed was the warmth over his stomach from his spilled load. He should clean it up, he thought, take care of Victor … but he was warm, and the sheets too inviting, and Victor’s lips were tracing gentle kisses over his waist. Yuuri was too tired to push him away, to feel embarrassed. Instead, he just embraced it. The pillow was soft behind his head and his body felt heavy, like a he’d just done a week's worth of intensive training all in one hour. 

The world behind his eyes flashed dark. It was comforting. Yuuri welcomed it. He hadn’t felt this content in … ever. Even before the wall fell.

He dozed off in Victor’s bed before another thought crossed his mind.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Keep tabs on my tumblr [here](https://justrae2010.tumblr.com/) and check out my other YOI fics [here](http://archiveofourown.org/users/justrae2010/pseuds/justrae2010)
> 
> If you have any suggestions or any kinks you want included in this story drop me a comment!
> 
> ... or you could just drop me a comment anyway.... kudos?....pretty please //*w*//...


	5. Chapter 5

Yuuri blinked awake face down in warmth and softness, eyelashes stuck together with lingering sleep and his cheek nuzzled against something smooth and gentle. A heartbeat thumped quietly in his ear. It rumbled a contented moan from his chest before he’d even opened his eyes.

When he did, his heart stopped.

He stared along the smooth line of a pale throat, up to a chiselled jaw framed by an unmistakable shock of wild silver hair.

At _Victor_.

Yuuri’s eyes shot wide. The breath caught in his lungs as he pieced together the rest of the puzzle. His cheek was pressed against the warm plane of Victor’s exposed chest, the Captain’s shirt disappeared and body moving with the gentle rise and fall of sleepy breaths. Yuuri’s body rippled with goose bumps. He was naked. His bare skin was warm against Victor’s, his body moulding into the dips and curves of the Captain. Any other time, he might have thought they fit perfectly together.

In that moment though, all he remembered was panic. Especially as a quiet grumble hit his ears, the tangled mess of silver stirring. Yuuri couldn’t move.

Misty cerulean stars blinked. Once with confusion. Then with sparkling clarity as they settled on Yuui. A broad smile spread over the Captain’s lips,  a little too wide - too blissfully happy - to be fully awake yet.

“Morning,” he beamed.

Yuuri’s eyes shot wide. “ _Ohmigo_ -”

He pushed up from Victor’s chest, weight pulling back off his Captain - and right off the edge of the bed. Yuuri yelped.

It was a blunt thud as he hit the floor, fingers getting caught in his discarded clothes scattered across Victor’s bedroom. His belt clunked, dragged along by his scrambling hands. His feet scrabbled on the floorboards - not like the plush carpet of the office - grabbing whatever clothes he caught along the way and hauling them recklessly over his body.

He didn’t look at Victor - couldn’t look at Victor. But he could feel Victor’s eyes on him, glimpsed the Captain propped up on his elbows in bed and watching Yuuri with an amused smile.

Yuuri didn’t stop.

Not until he was back on his feet, fastening his belt with trembling fingers. His shirt hung from his shoulders, open, buttons popped off the front. He hadn’t been able to find his underwear.

“I, um-”

His mouth was like ash, tongue darting over his dry lips like he hadn’t tasted water in days. Suddenly, he couldn’t avoid it anymore - his eyes lifted to Victor.

Pale morning light peeked through the window behind the Captain, casting a glorious glow around him as he sat up in bed, wild tousled bangs falling over his left eye. He looked gloriously dishevelled, pale body lined with a collar of hickeys. He still had his pants on. The Captain- no, Yuuri thought, not the Captain - _Victor_ smiled.

“I really enjoyed last night.”

Yuuri’s heart skipped a beat, back hitting the hardwood of the door through to Victor’s office. His hand fumbled behind his back, nudging the knob.

“I-I didn’t… I’m sorry-”

 _Last night_ \- where Victor had fingered him to a mind blowing orgasm, Yuuri passing out in the bliss of Victor’s sheet and body heat. Red splashed over Yuuri’s cheeks, heat creeping up the back of his neck. How could he have done that? Left the Captain unsatisfied and then slept in his bed like he actually _mattered_ -

The door gave way.

Yuuri staggered back, the soles of his bare feet treading over something even softer than the carpet of the office. A sharp yelp joined it.

Yuuri jumped the same moment the sound hit his ears, dropping the boots in his hand with a dull thud. Victor sat up a little sharper in bed. They quickly found the culprit; a large, fluffy poodle sat by Victor’s desk, tongue lolling and tail wagging too cheerfully for so early an hour in the morning. Yuuri’s blood froze. He recognised this dog. The very reason he’d gotten one of his own before the fall of the wall.

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Victor’s smile widen from bed. “Ah, you found Makkachin.”

Yuuri didn’t get a chance to turn around - not before large, fluffy paws braced on his thighs still weak from barely waking up and pushed. His belt dropped from his hands. His trousers followed. Yuuri tumbled quickly.

A gasp slipped from his lips as he went down, overwhelmed with spinning office and a wet tongue lapping over his eyes and cheeks. Any other day, it would be a dream come true. Drowning in the affection of a happy dog, in a luxurious office while a handsome, half dressed man watched from the doorway with a light laugh like music…

Instead Yuuri was stuck in his worst nightmare - and he couldn’t even fully remember how he’d it had come to be.

He must have fallen asleep, he reasoned, dragging his trousers back up to his hips while Makkachin lapped at his face. What was the last thing he remembered? On the bed, Victor’s hands firm on his thighs, the white flash of his grin beaming up from between his thighs as Yuuri came back down to earth from Victor sucking his soul out through his dick. Yuuri groaned hard. He’d fallen asleep. In Victor’s bed. Naked. Without helping Victor finish. His hand slapped over his face in shame, just dodging Makkachin.

He’d slept in Victor’s bed like he deserved to be there, like he was Victor’s _lover_ instead of just some cadet the Captain liked to fuck. He’d overstepped his boundaries. He’d gone too far.

“She likes you.”

Victor didn’t sound mad though, didn’t sound irritated. When Yuuri peeled his eyes open again and pushed up on his elbows, he caught Victor leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed loosely over his chest.

He couldn’t look him in the eye though, gaze falling to his knees with a hard gulp. “I-I didn’t know she stayed here.”

Yuuri’s heart was pounding so hard in his chest the blood was deafening in his ears, pulsing through his skull. He couldn’t look at Victor, he _couldn’t_ \- he did anyway. His eyes were wide and round as they peeked up at Victor through his dark lashes, heart in his mouth.

Victor’s smile was unreadable. His shoulders shrugged. “Chris brought her back after you fell asleep.”

An undignified squeak left Yuuri’s lips.

Shame burned down the back of his neck and across his cheeks as he carefully dislodged himself from the affectionate poodle and pushed himself to his feet, wishing the ground would swallow him up whole and make him disappear. This couldn’t be happening. Had Chris known when he’d brought Makkachin back that Yuuri was just a door away in the Captain’s bedroom? Had Victor told him?

Yuuri’s mind swam. The room swayed, Victor’s smile faltered and Yuuri heard his gasp echo distantly in his ears. Gentle fingers touched at the edge of his face and suddenly Victor was barely an inch in front of him, those pale eyelashes fluttering over Victor’s pink grazed cheeks.

He whimpered as Victor’s mouth touched his. His body stiffened and sank into the Captain’s touch all at once, shivers bolting up his spine though Yuuri couldn’t tell if it was in shock or pleasure.

Tender fingers roamed up the side of his arm, tracing up over his shoulder, along the side of his neck, along the line of his jaw… they curled delicately under his chin, angling his face up ever so slightly. Yuuri was putty in his hands. His face tilted obediently. Victor’s tongue probed past his lips, leisurely swathing Yuuri’s mouth like he was the most delicious dessert the Captain had ever tasted.

Victor kissed him slow and deep, but Yuuri didn’t have the presence of mind to kiss back, hypnotised by the blood pounding in his ears.

Teeth carefully pinched Yuuri’s lower lip, drawn back with Victor’s smile.

Yuuri was painfully away of his nakedness from the waist down, his trousers around his ankles. Victor made no move to touch him though, his thumb resting carefully over Yuuri’s chin. He didn’t move at all as Yuuri’s lip sprung gently free of his teeth’s hold, leaving him with a kiss swollen pout and Yuuri leaning forward instinctively as their contact broke.

Victor’s smile widened at that, his eyelashes fluttering against his pale, pink stained cheeks. His chuckle sighed over Yuuri’s lips like the sweetest poison.

“Come see me tonight?”

Yuuri’s mouth dropped open.

“I-I-”

“Or perhaps your dorm mate could be otherwise occupied?”

The words choked up in Yuuri’s throat entirely at that. Was Victor implying that they would rendezvous at his bunk instead of his office? They couldn’t do that.

“P-Phichit-”

Yuuri visibly flinched as he cursed himself the moment his best friend's name slipped through his lips. He’d just given Victor the name of the dorm mate that needed to be _otherwise occupied –_ whatever that meant. Yuuri didn’t want to know. Almost. Suddenly, all he wanted to do was get back to his dorm, see Phichit, never let him out of his sight again…

Only Victor already knew about Phichit, he remembered. The wall. The shower. Or, at least, Chris knew about Phichit and that meant that Victor did too or could easily find out.

The thought wasn’t very comforting.

He stumbled a step back - as far as he could get with his trousers halfway down his legs at least. That needed fixing. Now.

Yuuri’s face was on fire as he slipped out of Victor’s hands and bent to drag his trousers up his legs, metal of his belt clicking in his trembling fingers when he straightened up again. He could feel Victor’s smirk, feel the warmth in his gaze. What did that mean? More lust? It didn’t feel as predatory as when Victor wanted to fuck him. More like a quiet, simmering heat, slowly bubbling the blood in Yuuri’s veins but not quite pushing him to shorten the space he had in the front of his trousers. Yuuri didn’t know what it meant. He was too afraid to ask.

“I-I’ll come to you.”

He kicked his boots on in record time, not bothering to tie the laces, just tucking them down his ankles instead. They pinched. He tried to ignore it.

It was harder to ignore the strange lightness to the Captain’s smile though as Yuuri straightened up at last. The way it made his heart flip was just impossible. He wished more than anything he could pretend he hadn’t felt it, because that was one thing he understood perfectly. And it was his unfailing undoing.

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Victor’s fingers move and knew what was about to happen. He couldn’t let it. He couldn’t let Victor touch his cheek again. The second he did, Yuuri wouldn’t be able to drag himself away.

And he needed to go.

He’d already stayed too long.

His hand shot up and caught Victor’s wrist before his fingertips reached his face, stopping him in his tracks. The Captain’s eyes flashed wide for the briefest of seconds.

Yuuri’s breath caught.

He fumbled for words. For an excuse. For a reason to _grab his superior officer_ – but he came up with nothing. Worse than nothing! Instead Yuuri’s eyes bolted straight to Victor’s mouth as a tiny gasp slipped through his lips and once he was looking, he just couldn’t stop. Pink and glistening, and just begging to be kissed.

He groaned quietly, torn.

He wanted nothing more to stay holed up in Victor’s office kissing him until the sun fell and rose again, but it wasn’t one of his fantasies. The real world was crueler. The real world would watch him leave Victor’s office, would notice Yuuri was missing from his dorm, would raise rumour, and questions, and investigation…

Yuuri groaned quietly in the back of his throat, eyes rolling shut.

He had to go.

His fingers softened around Victor’s wrist, but he didn’t let go. He savoured the contact, fingertips ghosting over the Captain’s soft skin as they trailed along the inside of his wrist, over the heel of his palm. He had to let go. He had to-

Victor’s fingers laced with his, locking their hands together.

Yuuri’s eyes flickered open.

Glittering cerulean stared back at him, tugging at his heartstrings. “Don’t go.”

Yuuri’s next breath was shaky.

“I have to.”

He didn’t want to. He would give anything to stay here with Victor, knowing that his eyes were echoing Victor’s own plea right back at him, longing for the Captain to be able to say something to change their harsh reality. Of course, he couldn’t though. Nothing could change it.

Yuuri flickered a smile that didn’t reach his eyes and squeezed Victor’s fingers. He stepped forward before he remembered deciding to.

He heard the hitch of breath, felt the air around Victor stiffen, felt the heat radiate from the Captain’s cheeks as Yuuri pressed his lips firmly against the Victor’s warm cheek. Victor’s bangs tickled the side of Yuuri’s face. He didn’t pull away though, holding on for a lingering moment, savouring it.

“Later.”

 

* * *

 

Yuuri strode calmly down the corridor from Victor’s office but the moment he stepped outside, that stopped. From there, he made sure his steps were silent. His knees bent, feet trod carefully, legs moved low and efficient in crossing through the maze of barracks to his own dorm. He hardly dare breathe, forcing himself to breathe quietly through his nose instead of his mouth.

Bright pinks and oranges danced on the horizon, the sun still rising. Bright yellow spilled over the camp as it crept higher, the colourshow marred by only the tiniest smatter of fluffy white clouds.

Yuuri wanted to appreciate it, but he couldn’t. He needed to get back. Phichit would almost definitely be noticing his absence.

It was going to be another hot day, he could tell as he crept through camp. The air was already warm, moist and humid. Sweat stuck the hair at the base of his neck to his skin in minutes, clothes clinging grossly to his back. He didn’t dare stop though, moving as swiftly and silently back to his dorm as he could. He didn’t want to get caught now. What would he say?

He breathed a sigh of relief when his dorm crept in amongst the masses, thanking whatever gods were up there when he noticed no light of a candle flickering between the boards. Perhaps Phichit wasn’t awake yet, Yuuri dared hoped as he slowed his pace even further, creeping up to the front door. His fingers were featherlight on the handle, holding his breath. He was waiting for something to go wrong. A creak of wood would all it would take to betray him.

But it didn’t.

The door shut quietly behind him, room dark. The lump in Phichit’s bed didn’t move. Yuuri slipped inside, eyes never leaving Phichit’s bed, hoping to get into his own unnoticed when –

“Yuuri?”

Yuuri froze.

 _Shit_.

“I was getting worried. Where have you been?”

It took Yuuri a moment to realise that the lump in Phichit’s bed hadn’t moved. He quickly understood why though,voice bouncing off the back of his ears. Slowly, he turned around.

Phichit wasn’t in his bed.

He was stood by Yuuri’s - behind the door - already dressed with his hair slightly mussed up and arms crossed over his chest. His gaze was firm, staring hard under his unruly dark bangs with an intensity that Yuuri rarely saw.

Then a smirk flickered in the corner of his best friend’s lips. “More importantly, _who_ have you been with?”

“W-what?”

“You think I haven’t noticed?” A sly smile slipped over Phichit’s face and the sparkle shone back into his gaze a little. “Coming back late, those weird little bruises that you don’t hide as well as you think you do, and now not coming back at night at all…” his smile widened. “Who is it?”

Yuuri’s mouth dropped open, denial already on the tip of his tongue. He could say he was out on a morning jog, wanted to see the sunset - he definitely hadn’t been missing because he was having an illicit affair with his Captain in his private quarters. That could explain this morning, but what about the rest of it? The bruises? The coming back late when Phichit had the same duties and training as he did? Yuuri thought, but his mind ran blank, panic starting to kick in the back of his mind. He couldn’t think of anything.

But what was the point?

The glint in Phichit’s eye wouldn’t be persuaded, Yuuri quickly realised. He knew. And he wouldn’t buy any phoney story Yuuri might try and feed him. He already knew.

He just didn’t know _who_.

Yuuri sighed.

“I can’t tell you.”

Phichit’s grin dropped like a stone in water. “What? _Yuuri_!” His sharp eyes softened, going round and imploring as he drew out the syllables of Yuuri’s name. “I’m your best friend!”

Heat burned at the back of Yuuri’s neck.

He didn’t like keeping things from Phichit. They shared everything, had each other’s back, helped each other… and keeping a secret - even one as vital as this one - felt like a betrayal.

“This isn’t just… I mean…” Yuuri stumbled for words. “He’s not…”

There was no way to say it.

Phichit would accept if he couldn’t tell him. He wouldn’t like it, but he would accept it. He knew Yuuri. Yuuri wouldn’t hold something back from him unless he really had to, and this was something that he really had to…

But he didn’t want to.

It was wearing him down; the paranoia, the stress, the anxiety eating him up alive and the fact that he couldn’t tell a soul about it… his chest tightened.

He wanted to tell _somebody._ His dreams were coming true - albeit under different circumstances than he’d always fantasised about - and it made his heart pound, swell in his chest with happiness and an indescribable fear, yet he couldn’t even _tell_ anybody. It was his burden alone to bear, weighing down on his shoulders. And when it went wrong, Yuuri had no one to turn to.

Like today. Yuuri had no idea what to do. His secret was choking him, and while usually his first instinct would be to turn to his best friend for help, he couldn’t.

His chest was tight. He could feel the anxiety literally choking him as the space in his lungs shortened and his breaths got that little bit shallower with every new one he took. It would only get worse. The more the stress, the more the uncertainty, the more he mulled it over in his head...it would only get worse.

And when that happened, things slipped. Mistakes were made. And with what he was doing, mistakes could get him killed.

He couldn’t bear the thought of his parents just never hearing from him again as he disappeared. No word, no letter, no nothing. Just vanishing, like he never existed, when he finally slipped up with his relationship with Victor. The thought was a harrowing one, never knowing what happened to their son. He wanted _someone_ to be able to tell his parents about him if he ever _disappeared_. He would want them to know he died happy.

And there was only ever one person that could be.

Yuuri sighed. “Nobody can know-”

“Okay!”

Phichit didn’t even let him finish, eyes shining and wide smile flitting back into place at the prospect of juicy gossip.

“Anything to get you over pining for the Captain.”

Yuuri bit his lip.

Phichit’s grin faltered.

“Oh no…”

“Oh yes.”

“ _Yuuri!”_

“I know.”

“But you-”

“Yes.”

“And he-”

“Mhm.”

Phichit’s back hit the back wall again with a thump, a hand raising to rake through his already disheveled hair. Yuuri couldn’t quite place the guarded shine to his best friend’s gaze.

“I’m sleeping with the Captain.” It really did sound bad when he said it aloud like that…

It felt good to say the words though, to hear them aloud. It shouldn’t. It should be sick, and wrong, and hair raisingly dangerous, but instead they sent blooms of warmth swelling through his chest, flickering a smile over his face despite everything. His heart thumped traitorously. He was sleeping with Victor, and he wanted the world to know.

Phichit blinked, his jaw falling open.

“Oh my God…”

Yuuri could see his best friend’s mind racing behind his eyes, running through all the things Yuuri had the first night after he’d been with Victor. The risks. The danger. The sheer ridiculousness of why he would…

He stepped forward.

“You can’t tell anyone,” Yuuri said firmly, catching Phichit before his mind ran away with him. “Victor could get court martialled if anybody found out, or worse, or-”

“Wait, _Victor?”_

Yuuri’s face dropped into his hands, cheeks on fire. He groaned hard. Victor - not _the Captain_ \- but, Victor.

Like they were lovers.

“Wow, Yuuri…”

 _Yeah_ , Yuuri echoed silently to himself. _Wow_.

“So is it serious? Like,” through his fingers, Yuuri caught Phichit shrug. “Do you love him?”

Of course, Phichit knew all about his crush. He knew everything. It would make sense he would straightaway think that was why Yuuri was doing this. It wasn’t though - not entirely. After all, it had been Victor that had approached him, not the other way around and Yuuri was pretty sure that affection had nothing to do with the Captain’s advances.

Expect that tender touch to his cheek earlier that morning. The soft glow to Victor’s eyes… that wasn’t entirely without fondness. Maybe-

_No._

Yuuri didn’t even let himself finish that dangerous trail of thought.

His head shook, peeling his fingers down from his face. “No, it’s …” he searched for the right words, eyes flittering down to dance over the floorboards. “Just a casual thing.”

“A casual thing?”

Yuuri shrugged. “Yeah.”

“What does that mean exactly?”

Yuuri’s mouth opened. Then closed again. Then his head shook. A second later, his face was back in his hands, another whine slipping through his lips. “Oh God, I don’t know,” he confessed, feeling the tightness in his chest ease with every word he let free. It was dangerous. “At first it was just touching and blowjobs, then he invited me to his _office_ , and then last night I stayed over in _his bed_ and I-”

“Hold on, hold on –” Phichit’s hand waved out, putting Yuuri’s ramble on pause. “You stayed the night?”

“Yeah.”

“Sleeping?”

“Yeah,” Yuuri squeaked.

For a moment, nobody said anything. Yuuri peeked up over his fingertips, his hammering heartbeat the only thing to distract him wrong the silence.

Phichit’s brow looked curiously furrowed. “That doesn’t sound casual.”

It was like once Yuuri’s mouth was open, he just couldn’t close it again. “It’s not the first thing either. He’s been weird ever since we went to his office.”

“Weird how?”

“He put his medal on me.”

“He _what-”_ Phichit slapped a hand over his mouth as his voice rose just a little too loud. Anybody passing by could hear him, could hear too much. He was quieter when he grinned through his fingers. “Yuuri, he likes you.”

Yuuri choked on air.

His hands dropped dramatically from his face and Yuuri turned away, rolling his eyes as he did so. He didn’t want to admit it, but it stung. Because he knew it wasn’t true.

He trudged to his bed and flopped himself down on the creaky mattress. “No, he doesn’t.”

Yuuri threw his arm over his eyes, blotting out the world in black. It was calming. Simplistic in a way that his life never was anymore. His body felt tired, sinking into the mattress that was nowhere near as comfortable as Victor’s, like he had stayed up all night rather than sleep in Victor’s arms. He groaned softly at the memory. How was he going to face Victor again after that?

“Are you going back?”

Yuuri swallowed hard, forcing down the lump in his throat. “I have to.” His eyes pinched shut tighter behind his arm. “I have to find my underwear.”

“He stole your panties?! Okay, he _definitely_ likes you-”

A pillow slapped in Phichit’s face.

Yuuri dragged his arm off his face, glaring over at his giggling best friend as he sat up on his elbows. “He did not _steal_ them!” He hissed. “And would you keep your voice down, _please.”_

“Oh Yuuri…” Phichit’s hands clung to the pillow, barely muffling his chuckles.

Yuuri did not find it funny. His stomach turned sickening at the thought of seeing Victor again tonight, wondering what would await him. Would he be angry? Would he see him at all? Would he kick him out the moment that he was done with him? Or would he do something else… _weird_?

Touch his face carefully. Hold Yuuri through the night. Smile. Let him play with his dog. Stay in bed with him...

It was all so wrong. Yuuri didn’t know what he was doing.

“I don’t know what to do, Phichit.” Yuuri’s head shook miserably at the ceiling, flopping back down on the bed. “What if he gets bored of me, or-or what if he doesn’t like … oh God, I just don’t know! I shouldn’t have stayed last night. What have I done…”

He was an idiot. All he’d had to do was do as he was told, pay attention to what Victor did to him enough to please him back, but he hadn’t even been able to do that right. He hadn’t for a while. He wasn’t sure why Victor kept sleeping with him. He wasn’t a great lover like Christophe, or ethereally beautiful like Yurio; Yuuri was just… Yuuri. He was nothing special. Yet Victor stayed with him, kept drawing him closer all the same, and Yuuri didn’t understand. It scared him even more. What was he missing?

Yuuri felt rather than saw Phichit sit down beside him, the bed shifting subtly beneath him. He didn’t fight the fingers that combed gently through his hair.

“Yuuri...” Phichit said softly, just out of Yuuri’s line of sight. “If he didn’t like it, he wouldn’t have let you stay. He _wants_ you there. I already told you, he _likes_ y-”

“ _Please_ -” Yuuri pressed his eyes shut, voice tight. “Please don’t.”

He didn’t want to hear it.

He couldn’t bear to.

Beside him, Phichit just sighed, weight shifting on the bed as he leaned back. His hands left Yuuri’s hair. Yuuri felt strangely lonely without it.

“Come on.” The weight lifted off the bed entirely. “We’ve got to report for wall duty. You know what Yurio’s patience is like.”

He was right, Yuuri realised reluctantly. He still had a job to do, no matter whose bed he woke up up from to do it. In a way, it was almost comforting. That was one fight for his life he could always understand, could always count on to be there. And he’d always survived, somehow.

And just like that, Yuuri forced himself not to think about Victor.

When Yuuri’s eyes opened again - hauled up from the bed by Phichit - they were a soldier's eyes.

It was one thing he understood, one thing that was constant in his world. Fight to survive. Fight. Survive. Whatever it took. Yuuri just had an extra battlefield to everybody else.

 

* * *

 

A bead of sweat rolled down the back of Victor’s neck down the collar of his shirt, but it was only half to do with the thick humidity in the air. The rest was in his furrowed brow, his anxiously tapping foot, his-

“Please _,_ _mon_ _cheri_ , some of us actually have work to do.”

Christophe was bowed low over the latest rota to assemble, round reading glasses perched on the tip of his nose and olive green eyes levelling with Victor’s over the thin rims.

Victor barely noticed.

He sat across from Christophe’s small desk, legs and arms crossed and pout pushing at his lips. “But this is more _important_ ,” he all but whined. “ _S’il vous plait,_ Chris _.”_

 _S’il vous plait … please …_ Victor didn’t know what language it was. It didn’t have a name. Victor was good with languages - English, Latin, the sacred language of the walls, and even some of the ancient oriental languages, so old they had almost cease to exist by the time the walls had existed but for through a handful of books and even fewer people - but even he didn’t know what Christophe’s language was called. But he knew Christophe’s family spoke it. And in his time spent with Chris, had picked up some himself. It was like their own private code, their secret for chide and confession.

A smirk twitched at Chris’s lips. Of course he was amused. He’d slowly accepted more than warmed up to the idea of Victor and Yuuri, but of course he would be smug as soon as things started to dent. It had been what he’d predicted all along, after all.

Victor’s expression just soured, heart sinking bitterly.

He’d told Chris everything.

From the sex, to the sleeping, to Yuuri’s far from graceful departure earlier that morning. He’d been locked up in the second in command’s tiny office for the last hour, spilling his heart out.

Except the fact that he was wearing Yuuri’s left behind briefs. He kept that to himself. Victor wasn’t sure what had possessed him; he’d just wanted to feel close to Yuuri.

The pen bowed in Chris’s slackening grip, spark dancing in his eyes. “This is the assignment _you_ gave to me.”

Victor waved it off.

He didn’t care. He didn’t care about anything much while Yuuri was still somewhere out in his camp and Victor didn’t know what was going through his head. He couldn’t get the way the cadet flinched from his touch out of his mind, how he couldn’t wait to get out of his room like he was embarrassed to be caught there…

“I still can’t believe you let him stay the night.”

This time, Victor smiled.

Last night had been perfect; how Yuuri’s face softened when he slept, how one arm curled under his head and the other hand clutched anything and everything he could find to his chest for comfort - including Victor. It had been bliss. Cradling him through the night, arm around his cadet and fingers combing through his soft black hair, Victor couldn’t remember ever feeling happier. It was how he wanted to sleep every night.

His cheeks flushed pink at the mere idea. It was a big step up from their rampant fucking behind dorms and screwing over desks. Bringing to Yuuri to orgasm in his bed, sleeping in his arms… it reminded Victor of what making love might feel like.

And that was a dangerous thought to have.

To make love usually meant that one loved the person being made love to. And Victor hadn’t fallen in love with anybody since… ever.

He shut that trail of thought down quickly, mood darkening as he remembered how that bliss had all come crashing down the moment the sun had risen. Yuuri hadn’t been able to get away from Victor fast enough, something akin to horror - to fear! - glistening in his eyes. Victor didn’t want that. He didn’t ever want that.

A hand raked through his silver bangs, combing them back out of the way of his frown. “What if he didn’t like it?”

Victor wondered aloud - more to himself than anybody - but he was desperate for something to prove him wrong. He wanted Yuuri to like being with him. Hell, he wanted Yuuri to _love_ being with him! He wanted Yuuri to think of him all day when they were apart, counting down the minutes until he saw Victor again, smile as he dozed off in Victor’s arms as the sun fell outside Victor’s window.

Nothing about Yuuri’s reaction had been promising though. If he was thinking about Victor at all, it was more likely to be contemplating how to politely dump him more than counting down any minutes in anticipation.

Minutes that were quickly ticking by.

He wasn’t sure Yuuri would even come back after what had happened in the morning. Victor just couldn’t shake the way Yuuri had literally _ran away_ from him. Victor knew. His office did have a window.

“If he was that against it, he wouldn’t have stayed in the first place.”

Victor just hummed noncommittally.

Yuuri’s briefs felt weird. They were looser on his hips than his usual underwear, the material coarse but still somehow softer than what he was used to. Like bedsheets after a long, hard day - comforting beyond the scope of mere words, inexplicably so. They had been hidden just behind one of the legs of Victor’s bed, material cold from being abandoned overnight until Makkachin had dug them out. The moment Victor had slipped them on though, he’d been flooded with warmth, like it was Yuuri’s arms themselves holding his hips.

Instead Victor didn’t know where Yuuri was. Didn’t want to know. What if the answer wasn’t what he wanted to hear? If he didn’t know, he couldn’t be disappointed.

His dull eyes stared at nothing in particular on the edge of Chris’s desk.

“I’m being a fool, aren’t I?” he said in a flat voice that didn’t sound like himself. He barely recognised the man that spoke.

He felt foolish.

Moping and hiding from a man that had done nothing wrong to Victor other than indulge his wildest fantasies a bit too perfectly. So perfectly, Victor was starting to blur the line between dream and reality. It wasn’t the cold, analytical Captain he’d believed himself to be before he’d met Yuuri. Yuuri had shattered that illusion - to him at least - and for the first time in years, Victor actually felt like a man.

A man with a mortal life span. A man that could die. A man that could feel pain, and love, and longing, and that would one day cease to exist, leaving … what, behind? Who would miss him, as Victor the man?

Victor wanted to say Yuuri.

“Is he not coming over tonight?”

Victor flinched from his best friends words.

“He is,” he said. “He didn’t want me coming to him.”

A quiet scoff across the desk caught Victor’s attention, drawing his miserable gaze up a fraction. “Can you blame him? Sorry, _cheri,_ but, um…” Chris’s finger curled over his lips as he searched for the right words, eyes rolling to the ceiling. “You kind of stand out.”

Victor knew Chris meant it in more ways than just his striking silver hair colour. He knew what he could be like. Excitable, irrational, impulsive… Victor had nearly gotten him and Yuuri caught before on more than one occasion in the middle of some of their trysts, saved only by fate or Chris drawing the attention mercifully away from the lovers. Victor was too noticeable. He was too risky.

But then in contrast, Chris implied that Yuuri was not noticeable and that thought alone sent Victor’s blood boiling back to life.

Sure Yuuri may be smaller, and darker, and more timid than Victor was but… he was _stunning._ He exuded beauty - from his smooth skin, to his decidedly scruffy hair, to his slightly off centre glasses, to the thickness of his thighs. Everytime Victor saw him, it was like he was backdropped by the most romantic candlelight, glowing like an angel in a way that Victor almost hoped he was the only one that could see. He wanted to be the only one. He wanted Yuuri to shine for him.

Only for him.

He was a foolish man after all…

“Yuuri’s better at this than you are.”

 _That_ jolted Victor out of his haze, eyes blinking back into sharp focus at his friend across the desk. “At what?”

“Casual sex.” The tiniest of smirks played on Christophe's lips, lacing his fingers together and propping his elbows up on the desktop. “It’s rule number one of being a heartbreaker, Victor, you’re supposed to have _fun_ with it. Yuuri doesn’t have any problem picking things up when it suits him then being the first to run off when it doesn’t.”

It was like a slap in the face, no matter how soft spoken Chris was as he said it. Victor’s mouth drifted open, blood running cold in shock.

His mouth opened… then closed again. He couldn’t deny it. He was miserable because his not-so-one-night one night stand hadn’t stayed with him longer the morning after their _casual_ fucking. He was pathetic.

Because for Victor, there was nothing casual about it. Never had been since the night of the bonfire.

His lips twitched in a humourless smile.

He bet Yuuri wasn’t thinking like that.

The harsh drag of chair legs against stark wooden flooring screeched in Victor’s ears and his eyes blinked back into sharp focus as Chris stood up from behind the desk, pen clattering down over the papers.

Victor rose too, hands smoothing his trousers over his hips nervously. He knew where this was going - especially as Chris draped an arm around his shoulders and turned him away from the desk. To the door. Victor got the message. He guessed he couldn’t stay hidden forever, whether Yuuri was waiting for him in his office or not. His fingers scratched the top of Makkachin’s skull fondly as he passed, body tense at the door looming impossibly closer. Chris’s arm was firm around his shoulders though, unrelenting.

“What’s rule number two?” Victor asked, trying to ignore the slight tremble in his voice. The nerves were back. Reality was knocking.

The light in Christophe's eyes dulled beside him, mouth thinning.

Victor didn’t get it.

He didn’t fight the hands that turned him to face his best friend at the door, bracing themselves upon his shoulders. Cold - sad - green eyes were waiting for him.

“Don’t get attached to someone you could lose.”

 _Don’t fall for it_ , Christophe was saying in not saying it. _Don’t fall for Yuuri._

Victor gulped hard. It was way too late for that.

He didn’t even notice Chris open the door, let alone how he teased him over the threshold with a firm, steady hand. A quick squeeze of Chris’s fingers was all the warning Victor got. He glanced up, noting the sparkle back in his friend’s gaze, the way his lips tweaked in the corner - stiffer than before though. Forced.

Still, Christophe winked. “Well, don’t keep him _waiting.”_

“Wait, _wha-”_

The door was slammed in Victor’s face before he could draw in his next breath, air knocked out of his lungs a second later. For a moment, he didn’t move. He just stood there. He stared at the wood with wide eyes, making out every groove in the wood, every spiral in the pattern like it was the most fascinating thing in the world…

“Go, Victor!”

Victor jumped.

Even with a door between them, Christophe knew him better than he knew himself.

Feeling numb, Victor took a step back, footsteps soft against the hardwood floor of the corridor. His heartbeat echoed in his ears. He couldn’t delay the inevitable any longer.

Christophe's words were still spinning in his head as he turned around, legs slowly dragging themselves one in front of the other back down the corridor. That was all it was to Victor’s office - one corridor away. It was just at the end of the hall. Victor would be able to see it if he dared look up. He didn’t though.

He could feel the corridor was empty. _No Yuuri._ Victor swallowed the hard lump in his throat. Did that mean that Yuuri had _finally_ used the key that Victor had given him and let himself in?

_Someone he could lose._

That was how Chris had described Yuuri. Albeit, indirectly.

The sad glint to his friend’s eyes still haunted him in the back of his mind. He knew Chris was sore when it came to romance. He had been ever since his boyfriend died. Died... _killed,_ more like _._ Ripped from his saddle by thick Titan fingers as they’d ridden through the countryside of Titan territory, dead before half his comrades even had the chance to turn their heads. Victor knew. He had seen it for himself.

Chris had never really been the same after that. He’d never truly forgiven the love of his life for leaving him, like dying had been his choice in the way Christophe had lost him.

Victor stopped in his tracks.

His eyes shot wide.

That was it, he realised. Suddenly, it all made sense. Chris thought Yuuri would die - would be killed in the field like his late boyfriend. He thought Yuuri was weak. He saw Yuuri’s quiet and softness, his pauses and hesitations … and he’d written him off as one of the ones that simply wouldn’t last long.

And he knew how Victor would feel when it inevitably happened. Because he had felt it himself - still felt it himself.

They were riding out on a new mission in a week...

The last time Victor had been out on mission with Yuuri, he’d saved his life. He’d watched Yuuri get cornered, just _standing there_ while Titan’s loomed in on him until Victor had swooped in to save his ass. He couldn’t let that happen again.

The sudden fierce desire to see Yuuri ran through Victor’s blood like wildfire, shocking a gasp back into his lungs. He needed to see him. Needed to know he was well. Needed to see he was safe. Needed to see he was alive. Victor’s boots clicked loudly against the floor as he crossed the last of the corridor in a few quick strides, not stopping for a second before he all but plowed his shoulder against the door to his office, hand twisting at the door knob.

 _Please be there,_ he willed, scrunching his eyes shut in prayer. Victor never prayed, but today he did.

The door fell open.

“Victor?”

Victor choked out a gasp of relief as his name bounced off the walls in Yuuri’s voice, sharp and crisp - like shock, he realised with a breathless smile, pinching his eyes open.

Sure enough, Yuuri’s eyes were flashed wide with surprise at Victor’s desk. _On_ Victor’s desk, the Captain realised with a skipping heartbeat. Yuuri was perched on his desktop, leaned back on his palms and his legs crossed deliciously, emphasising the strong curve of his calves and thighs. Victor’s mouth watered.

Yuuri glanced down as he noticed Victor staring, cheeks running red - but his gaze couldn’t stay away for long, flickering back to Victor’s nervously as his teeth snagged his lower lip.

It was the sexiest thing Victor had ever seen.

Emotions hit him all at once - lust, relief, joy, panic; Victor felt them all pulse through his veins, drawn from the very strands of his DNA. It left him feeling raw, exposed. Yuuri stared at him like a blushing virgin and it made Victor feel as vulnerable as if he were naked in his boots. It frightened him. Nobody had ever stripped him back so easily before.

Desire hit last. Hot, hard, strong.

His fingers reached for his belt instinctively, needing something - needing Yuuri. Yuuri was across the room. Victor needed him now.

His hand skimmed over the waistband of his trousers, fingertips dipping beneath for a quick bout of relief. The underwear. It was rough to the touch, rugged and tough. Tough enough for the owner to stay alive, Victor thought. To stay with him.

He teased the waistband of the black briefs over his trousers, flexing the material proudly over his thumb.

His eyes never left Yuuri.

Yuuri blinked - and Victor saw his own want mirrored back at him.

He wanted to do something clever. He wanted to shrug, or shoot a sexy gaze, or pull off a sexy move to impress Yuuri … but all he could do was step forward as his will broke, knees weak beneath him.

Yuuri pushed off the desk.

They both met in the middle in mutual want, lips colliding and hips meeting like a live wire zinging into place.

Yuuri didn’t go back to his dorm that night.

Victor wouldn't have had it any other way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri got busted! Still better than the mission beyond the walls he's going to have to deal with next chapter. Victor just hopes he makes it back...
> 
> No smut in this chapter - sorry! There is more goodness in the next one though, I promise!
> 
> Hope you liked it. Pleeeeease drop me a comment below if you did! #^w^#
> 
> Keep tabs on my tumblr [here](https://justrae2010.tumblr.com/) and check out my other YOI fics [here](http://archiveofourown.org/users/justrae2010/pseuds/justrae2010)
> 
> Going to try and keep updating this as soon as I can, but Christmas is coming and I need to squeeze in some writing time for the Christmas fic somewhere, which may push back the release dates for this story just a little. Hopefully not by much. I'll do my best!
> 
> Thanks for the support!


	6. Chapter 6

The thunder of hooves was deafening in Yuuri’s ears, rhythm beating at his sanity, keeping his nerves on edge. The last time he’d heard that sound, he’d been coming back to the walls on the tails of yet another failed mission; in shock, covered in blood and barely alive – amazed that he still was, while his Captain rode glinting in the sunlight ahead of him like a beacon shining the way home.

This time, Yuuri just looked across to his left.

Victor was right there.

Barely three feet away, green cloak billowing beautifully behind him and silver hair whipping back from his face. His eyes were sharp and focused ahead, mouth drawn in a tight line.

This was Victor, the Captain.

The walls were behind them, shrinking further in the distance with every passing gallop deeper into Titan country, with every ruined village the company rode through. The smaller it got on the horizon, the smaller the chances of making it back alive. Yuuri knew that. Everyone knew that. It was the solemn blanket that lay thickly over the rows of riders stretched out over the terrain, the unspoken truth that nobody dared voice aloud.

This time, Yuuri felt something beyond fear curl in his chest as he rode, the distant blast of smoke guns triggering echoing in his ears.

_ Titans. _

The thing that frightened Yuuri the most though was that it wasn’t even his own life that he was fearful for this time. Not even his friends -  even Phichit, sat far across to the right of the formation where the warning smoke was coming from! He knew he should be. He should be worried about everything, like he usually was. This time though, he was only worried about one thing.

And it sat in the saddle to his left.

Victor’s sharp cerulean gaze was cast over in Yuuri’s direction, gazing past him at the trails of smoke cutting through the clear blue sky to the right. Drinking in the danger. Digesting the information.

As a Captain.

Then he blinked, and caught Yuuri’s eye.

Their gazes pulled together like they were drawn by magnets, effortless and easy. It came so naturally. Finding each other. Even amongst the noise. Even amongst the rattling bounce of being on horseback. Even amongst the thick fear and tension clogging the air… and then Victor  _ smiled. _

Victor, the man, appeared.

Yuuri’s breath caught, hitching in his throat. He couldn’t bring himself to smile back, heart in his mouth choking him.  

How had this happened?

Yuuri Katsuki – a mere lowly cadet, one year into his service – was riding in the centre formation, at the right hand of the Captain himself.

 

* * *

_ “My parents used to run an inn. Back in Shiganshina, before...um, everything. It was a good retreat for the soldiers when they were wounded. Peaceful. Quiet. ...they loved it. I loved it. It was home. I-” Yuuri’s breath caught unexpectedly. “I miss it.” _

_ Victor’s fingers combed gently through Yuuri’s hair as they lay stretched out on Victor’s bed, both as naked as the day they were born. Every now and then, he’d find a knot. Tender fingers weaved through the tangles, picking them loose and combing through until Yuuri’s locks were silky smooth under his hand. Even then, he kept stroking. Yuuri found it relaxing. _

_ It took the heat off the weight of Victor’s gaze a little; the Captain stared at Yuuri like he was the centre of the universe in that moment. _

_ “Tell me more,” Victor asked, his smile soft. _

_ “Um…”  _

_ Yuuri’s eyes rolled up to the ceiling, breath shaky as Victor’s fingers massaged gently against his scalp. God, how did that feel so good? His eyelashes fluttered in bliss. _

_ He wasn’t sure how it had happened. One moment he’d been coming hard around Victor’s fingers inside him, groan muffled into his Captain’s shoulder while the sun sank low outside the window and bathed the room in a serene orange glow. And then the next, he’d been in Victor’s arms, their warm bodies entangled and adoring blue eyes glowing at him through the dimming bedroom light. Victor’s fingers had traced patterns into the bare skin of his thigh, sighing happily. _

_ “Tell me everything, Yuuri,” he had said, when Yuuri had started to come back to his senses from his orgasm. “I want to know everything about you.” _

_ At first, Yuuri hadn’t understood what he’d meant. His military history? His training regiment? His report from what happened in Shiganshina? There wasn’t exactly much else to him after all. He was just Yuuri Katsuki, the cadet that Victor liked to invite over for a blowjob after a long day. That was all they had… wasn’t it?  _

_ Yuuri just stared, frown nudging into his brow. _

_ Maybe not. _

_ The glow in Victor’s eyes was tender and understanding, grateful and kind. It speared through something in Yuuri’s chest that he hadn’t even realised he’d been guarding until then.  _

_ “I have a sister,” he finally settled on. “Mari. She’s…she’s working in the fields now. With my parents. They just farm now.” _

_ Victor seemed to like that - hearing about his family. Sure, he’d been happy to hear about Phichit and his few other friends, hear the jokes they shared, and the stories Yuuri had to tell… but when his family had been brought up, it had sparked something entirely different in the glow in the Captain’s eyes. Something darker, yet wistful. Hopeful, yet dejected. Yuuri wanted to ask… but he sensed that it was something Victor wouldn’t tell him even if he did. So he kept his mouth shut, heart open, and waited for the next curious question. _

_ “Do you miss them?” _

_ It hit him like a sucker punch to the gut, knocking the air out of his lungs. Yuuri didn’t even need to think about his answer. “Always.” _

_ He never forgot the image of his father’s neatly combed hair and bow tie, his mother’s bubbly smile, his sister’s hair bleached harshly blonde on the ends, giving them all a shock when she’d come back to the inn one day with her dark locks dyed… it had strengthened him on the days of training when he’d thought he couldn’t go on, on those cold nights crying himself to sleep after missions, because while so many people had died, at least his family wasn’t among them, safe and living, deep in the walls... _

_ “When was the last time you saw them?” _

_ Delicate fingers danced around Yuuri’s hairline, the tender touch sending shivers down his spine. Victor’s gaze followed them.  _

_ Yuuri’s mouth dropped open to moan in pleasure - then he remembered himself. And Victor’s question. His eyes opened. “I don’t…” He wracked his brain for the answer. When was the last time he’d seen his family? “I don’t know.” _

_ He wasn’t sure.  _

_ He’d certainly not been able to travel to see them since he graduated into the Scouts, but he couldn’t remember if they’d been able to make the journey so see him at his graduation or not in the end. They’d wanted to. And Yuuri had dreamed of it so much in the run up to the day itself that he could have fooled himself into believing one was reality. He hadn’t seen them while he was training, that was for sure. That was three years alone… had he really not seen them for nearly five years? _

_ Yuuri’s breath caught, brow furrowing. No, that couldn’t be right. It just couldn’t… but it was. The more he thought about it, it was.  _

_ Guilt clawed at his gut, a lump digging in his throat. He was a bad son. He’d just upped and left his family, and never looked back. And for the Scouts no less! All it would take was one bad mission for Yuuri to not come back at all one day, his parents lucky if there was even a body to bring back for them to mourn over. _

_ “You should go see them.” _

_ A sad smile flickered over Yuuri’s lips. He would if he could. On the outside though, his head just shook. “I don’t have any leave, Victor-” _

_ Yuuri stopped himself, but it was too late - way too late! His eyes shot wide with horror, instantly finding Victor’s, staring at him with the same shock that was sure was mirrored in his own gaze. He could feel the blood draining from his face, his gut twisting anxiously. _

_ He’d said Victor’s name. _

_ He  _ never  _ said Victor’s name - not outside of breathless moans and sighs of pleasure, beyond cries of orgasm when they were both too caught up in their own lust to care. _

_ But he’d never just  _ said _ it before. _

_ In front of him, Victor had stopped breathing. He stared at Yuuri with round eyes, blown wide in surprise and his lips parted in a gasp that had never quite made it to existence. _

_ Yuuri hardly dared look at him - but he definitely didn’t dare look away. What would Victor do? He felt cold brush over his legs as Victor’s thigh brushed back from his, pulling away the warmth of his bare skin. Yuuri waited for the rest of him to pull away too. For him to sit up in bed, pull a shirt on before he commanded him to leave, before he had him written up for insubordination, or something akin to calling one’s Captain by said Captain’s given name like he was more than just a fuck toy- _

_ “Well...” the word breathed shakily from Victor’s lungs, cheeks glowing pink. His tongue darted out to wet his lips. “As your Captain... I hereby grant you leave.” _

_ Yuuri flushed scarlet.  _

_ His eyes darted low in shame, feeling his blush crawl right down to his chest as he tried to remember where he’d left his shirt in their mad scramble to undress each other when they’d come in. Now that Victor was dismissing him- _

_ Hold on. _

_ Yuuri froze. That wasn’t what Victor had said at all. His eyes blinked up to his Captain, heart in his mouth. A broad smile awaited him. _

_ “But I-” Yuuri gasped, hardly daring to believe he’d heard Victor right. “I can’t-” _

_ Victor’s fingers wove through Yuuri’s hair, palm cupping the side of his head through his silky locks. The sigh he breathed over Yuuri’s mouth effectively stopped the cadet in his tracks.  _

_ “Yes, you can,” The Captain said, shuffling closer. Their thighs reconnected, sending a bolt like electricity through Yuuri. “Let me do this for you.” Victor leaned forward, forehead touching Yuuri’s so he all but spoke his next words against Yuuri’s mouth, not even a centimeter between them. “Just say yes, Yuuri. Please.” _

_ Yuuri’s eyes fluttered, closing as he breathed in the sweetness from Victor’s mouth. It was so close, right there, his for the taking… _

_ If only he said yes. _

_ “Yes.” _

_ Yuuri forgot how to breathe. He moaned quietly in his chest as Victor grinned against the corner of his mouth, winding an arm around Yuuri’s waist and pulling his body flush with his. _

_ It was like coming home, heart hammering with more than joy, with more than lust. More than gratitude, even. It burned fiercely inside Yuuri’s chest and Yuuri didn’t fight when it guided him to hitch a leg over Victor’s hips, swinging himself up above the Captain. _

_ Victor lay back in the sheets, his silver hair fanned out around him and pink cheeks glowing in the evening light glimmering around the room. _

_ In that moment, Yuuri knew that he would fight for this man - would give his _ life _ for this man. Duty or not.  _

_ Because he wanted to. _

_ Because he was  _ Victor.

_ Yuuri cupped Victor’s cheek with tender fingers and dipped down to kiss him. _

 

* * *

 

Victor met Yuuri’s gaze, smiling as easily as if they were making eyes over dinner rather than the front line of a scout mission out into Titan country.

He couldn’t help it; Yuuri looked beautiful with the wind rushing through his hair beside him, his strong thighs holding his saddle well. He belonged there, Victor thought shamelessly. Yuuri belonged riding at Victor’s right hand like his guardian angel. Nothing could go wrong while Yuuri was there, right at his side where Victor could keep him safe.

 

* * *

_ It wasn’t because Yuuri was weak, Victor told himself as he stared down at the map over his desk, and the inscriptions scrawled over it. The battle positions for the upcoming mission beyond the walls. _

_ There was an alarming gap between Yuuri’s name and his. _

_ Christophe had drawn it up. _

_ Victor understood. Chris couldn’t make that kind of preferential treatment, couldn’t make that kind of call. He hadn’t been able to do it with his own boyfriend after all, even to be able to save his life. He certainly wouldn’t bend the rules for Victor’s. _

_ But Victor could. _

_ His eyes stared across the room at the medal at the wall, the medal from Shiganshina. Yuuri’s hometown. Yuuri… he couldn’t lose him again. _

_ He looked away as his pen scratched out Yuuri’s name from the outskirts of the ranks - where all the bodies would start hitting the ground first. And half a beat later, Yuuri Katsuki’s name was inked into the horse beside Victor’s in the centre rank. _

_ No, he wouldn’t lose him again. _

 

* * *

Christophe was glaring; subtly, but he was. Yuuri could feel it - even if he didn’t make it obvious that he caught the sideways looks the second in command gave him across the line. He didn’t blame him. Yuuri was in his spot, right hand to the Captain. He had every right to hate Yuuri, to resent him, and Yuuri knew the rest of the squad was thinking exactly the same thing, glaring daggers into his back. Yeah, Yuuri knew. He knew he didn’t belong there either.

It wasn’t fair.

Yuuri had thought there must have been some mistake when he’d gotten his assignment position, but one look from Phichit had hammered the reality home.

It was no mistake, and they both knew it.

It was Victor.

It raised the hairs on the back of his neck, tightened his fists around his reins as he pushed his horse on. He pushed his weight forward, deeper into his stirrups. He had to keep up. Extra meal rations and time off was one thing, but riding amongst the most skilled and elite soldiers in all of the Scouts - the safest place in the whole formation - was a whole new level of privilege. One he hadn’t expected, one he certainly didn’t deserve. Judging from Christophe’s sideways glares, the rest of the squad knew it too.

Everybody but Victor, still beaming at him from the front of the squad with that megawatt smile of his. Usually, it would melt Yuuri to a puddle. 

Out here, it just chilled his blood.

Every shadow made Yuuri flinch. Every time a rat squealed under a horse’s hooves, he jumped. Every  

Every clack of hooves against the cobbled street made him twitch. Every shadow that danced through the ruins of the city made his heart skip a beat. The city had been long overrun, lost to the monsters after the fall of Wall Maria. Yuuri wasn’t sure why they were riding through it now - it was a minefield of danger.

And Victor was  _ smiling  _ at him.

The squad ahead of them pounded the pavement of what had once been the high street, no shoot of a smoke gun, no screams, no ring of blades being unsheathed and whoosh of ODB gear engaged. All was still around them. All was peaceful. That was a good sign.

Still, Yuuri stayed vigilant. The hairs lifted on the back of his neck, his eyes scouring into every alley and torn open house that they passed, wondering what might be lurking in the shadows.

On the left, something moved.

Yuuri glanced over.

He saw it in a split second. Short. Dark haired. Ugly. Crawling out of the shadows barely a block away, still hidden by the walls of the neighbouring house but fingers reaching out for the approaching riders.

A Titan.

Yuuri’s blood ran cold. 

He turned to Victor - but Victor was still smiling at him, completely oblivious. Completely unaware that he was practically riding right into the hand of a Titan.

He had to know, Yuuri told himself, mouth falling open like it was bracing itself for a scream that would never end. Surely, he saw it. He was just bluffing, showing off - the rest of the squad too! They must know, just waiting until the right moment to duck away, give the order, or slay it entirely. Eyes stayed forward and hoof beats kept steady around Yuuri - all the while, Yuuri kept his own gaze right on the movement lurking out of the alley, ready to kill...

To kill Victor.

Only Victor didn’t move. Didn’t even turn his head. Even as he rode past, the monster’s thick fingers still reaching for him - lurching out of the shadows - still playing dumb. At least, that’s what Yuuri prayed.

His hand went to the scabbard of his blades at his belt, eyes sharp. Just in case.

_ Move _ , Yuuri willed,  _ do something. Victor- _

-just smiled obliviously.

_ Dammit. _

Yuuri yanked on his reins. His horse swerved and lurched to the right - right towards Victor’s - but Yuuri had no time for the shock that dashed over his Captain’s face. He was already pushing out of his saddle, leaping from his horse.

His ODM gear pulled on his hips.

He flew over his Captain.

His blades drew mid air. 

Yuuri’s teeth gritted, pulling his gears teeth out of the wall. And then he was falling. Air rushed through his hair, choking down his throat, watering his eyes - but Yuuri only had attention for the monster directly below him, rising up faster than fast with a deadly pull of gravity. 

His blades glinted in the sunlight. 

_ The back of the neck, _ Yuuri reminded himself. _ One meter long, and ten centimeters wide.  _ His eyes honed in on the spot, exposed and vulnerable.

The monster lurched towards Victor.

Yuuri’s eyes flashed.

_ Don’t touch him! _

Yuuri didn’t have time to think. Pegs dug into the Titan’s neck, shortening lines of his ODM gear hauling Yuuri through the air faster than lightning with a scream of fury that rang distantly in his ears, eyes on his target, his prey-

His blades sliced.

The Titan didn’t even see who killed it. Yuuri’s blades cut through the flesh at the back of its neck like a knife through butter, blood burning as it splattered over his face with a hiss of steam.

He didn’t care, barely noticed. 

The underside of Yuuri’s boots met the bloody mess of the back of the Titan’s neck as the body hit the ground with a loud thud, a horse neighing as it swerved to avoid the outstretched arm that slumped in the path of the riders. Yuuri’s hands stayed tight around his blades, senses tense. Beneath him, nothing moved. 

He could feel his body wound tight. Knuckles were white around his blades, his chest tight with slightly heavy breaths and a growl that slipped through his clenched teeth. His eyes were narrowed painfully, full of fury.

They didn’t let up -  even when everything was still.

ODM gear whizzed in his ears and Yuuri felt the rush of air hit his face, loosening his taut expression - when had he decided to move? He couldn’t remember.

His mind ran blank as he soared through the streets over his still riding squad, catching the glimpse of Victor’s silver hair in the sunlight. A riderless horse was beside him. Yuuri let his gear pull him towards it, blood thumping fast with adrenalin.

He’d just killed a Titan.

His first kill.

The air knocked out of him as he landed heavily back in the saddle, thighs gripping hard to hold his seat while his feet fumbled with the stirrups. When his hands found the reins again, they were trembling.  _ Oh God- _

“Nice job, Yuuri!”

Yuuri jumped at the voice to his right, heart skipping a beat at the flash of blonde. Christophe rode up alongside him, grin twisting his mouth. It was the last thing Yuuri expected to see.

No, scratch that - Christophe’s suggestive  _ wink  _ was the last thing that Yuuri expected to see. “He always leaves his back left open.” His head jerked in Victor’s direction, olive green eyes sparkling. “Good thing he’s got you watching his ass.”

Yuuri’s mouth just fell open. “I-I wasn’t-”

Melodic laughter cut him off.

His eyes darted to Victor, protest still on the tip of his tongue until he saw the beam Victor was shooting his way, somehow even bigger and brighter than before. His bright blue eyes shone. 

“Thank you, Yuuri,” he just said, voice soft. It dropped a tone lower, beam curling into a wicked smirk. “I’ll be sure to return the favour.”

_ Return the…  _

Yuuri flushed scarlet. The colour seeped from his cheeks all the way to the tips of his ears and down his shirt, skin all but burning with embarrassment - only made worse when Victor batted a wink in his direction, beautiful silver eyelashes catching the light in just the right way. Yuuri swore quietly under his breath, chest and trousers equally tight. Riding with an erection was definitely the most uncomfortable thing he’d ever experienced in his life.

* * *

Yuuri’s hands roamed over the smooth metal of his gear back in the safety of the Scout base, material cool and soothing to the touch. It didn’t do much to comfort his trembling fingers though.

He couldn’t help it.

He’d made it back alive - hell, all of Victor’s squad had. Phichit too, by some miracle! But still, Yuuri couldn’t get that moment in the city ruins out of his head, couldn’t erase the reaching Titan fingers ready to pluck Victor right off his horseback and tear him limb from limb. If he’d hesitated for just one more second, Victor could have been killed. Lost an arm, at the very least! If Yuuri hadn’t jumped, then Victor could have-

Yuuri’s hand slapped over his mouth, smothering his whimper. He didn’t dare finish the thought, tears beading in the corners of his eyes. He couldn’t.

Around him, the garrison was quiet. Gear was being dismantled, unloaded, put away before the lingering soldiers wandered to the mess hall for dinner, most still wide eyed and blank faced with shock. Yuuri’s gear just rattling in his hold as he tried and failed to pin everything in place in the corner, savouring the quiet moment to himself.

Nothing had happened - but so much could have.

It could have all been over…

“Katsuki.”

Yuuri jumped, dropping the fuel canister he held with a clatter. It rolled across the floor out of reach, bouncing lightly off the wall. Yuuri was too frozen to grab it back.

He hardly dared move as steady boot falls strode past him. They marched with purpose, not turning or breaking stride even as they called him, voice surprisingly curt and cold. Yuuri swallowed hard, shrinking under the harsh tone of the Captain’s voice - “A  _ word _ .”

It sent shivers down Yuuri’s spine, blinking up through his eyelashes at the passing shimmer of silver. Victor’s spine looked stiff. His hands were clasped behind his back, knuckles white. Yuuri’s blood ran cold. He damned near forgot to breathe, feeling his eyes widen, the colour drain from his cheeks…

“Now!”

Yuuri scrambled to his feet.

His knees were shaky beneath him as he clamoured after Victor, carving a path far less elegant than Victor’s through the loitering soldiers chatting and disarming around the garrison. Shoulders bumped. Apologies mumbled. All the while, Yuuri never took his eyes off the silver hair shining his way through the bodies. He didn’t dare fall behind. His heart was in his mouth, trailing after Victor out the garrison hall into the corridor. A handful of soldiers loitered. Yuuri avoided their gaze.

Shame bubbled up inside him, cheeks burning with every curious gaze that turned to stare. He couldn’t help it. He was in trouble for something and he knew it – and the whole garrison knew it too.

Victor stopped by an open door in the corridor, blocking Yuuri’s path. The message was clear.

Inside.

Yuuri shuffled through the doorway, shoulders hunched.

He didn’t dare turn around once inside, breaths impossibly loud and heart racing. What had he done? His mission had been relatively uneventful from the centre formation, lcoked between the greatest soldiers in the Scouts. Nothing had happened. Nothing except –

Except Yuuri saving Victor from that Titan.

His chest tightened.

Victor was mad. Yuuri could sense it in the tension thickening the air behind him, in the too quiet, too controlled click of the door closing into place.

Yuuri flinched.

What was he supposed to have done? Let Victor get attached? Let him get torn to shreds while Yuuri just sat in his saddle because he didn’t have the order to move? Yuuri didn’t know. His nerves jumped with every slow footstep that crept up behind him, Victor’s aura intimidating.

The lock clicked.

Yuuri scrunched his eyes shut. “Sir, I-”

He spun around – rough hands turning him from behind. His shoulders slammed back into the blackboard on the wall behind him.

Yuuri barely got the chance to gasp before Victor’s mouth was on his.

His eyes shot open.

Fingers dug painfully into his shoulders – sure to leave bruises – but Yuuri found he hardly cared as Victor smothered his body over his, all firm muscle and hard, lean lines. His tongue raided Yuuri’s mouth, thigh prising its way between Yuuri’s legs. Yuuri’s hips lifted instinctively, hand fisting in the sleeve of Victor’s jacket to anchor himself, and cock stirring in his trousers.

His mind wasn’t nearly as swept away as his body though, thoughts buzzing -  _ what was happening?! _

“You-” kissed rough against his mouth, “are so fucking amazing.”

The words growled over his lips, Yuuri trembling under the sensual snag of skin on skin as Victor’s mouth grazed over his, leaning down to his neck. Fingers wove into his hair, yanking his head to the side. 

Yuuri whimpered.

Lips attacked his neck, kissing, sucking -  _ biting -  _ until Yuuri’s knees went weak, all but falling back against the blackboard.

His vision span, heart skipping a beat - how could it not when the Captain was just ravishing him? Victor’s hands were everywhere, sucking a dark bruise into Yuuri’s neck that Yuuri could feel blooming, his skin buzzing with electricity and the sure knowledge that the collar of his jacket wouldn’t be tall enough to hide that one.

“You’re so perfect,” Victor pulled off Yuuri’s neck with a pop, teeth grazing over the sensitive new bruise. “I want you so much.”

Fingers gripped Yuuri’s hips, bodies pressed together until not a slither of space could creep between them - but still, Victor pulled away. Just for a second. His face leaned back just an inch away from Yuuri’s, loosening the hand in his hand to move down and cup his cheek. A thumb grazed over Yuuri’s flushed cheekbone, tempting his eyes open. 

Yuuri’s eyelashes fluttered obediently.

Victor’s gaze was raging with barely contained lust, but the Captain contained it nevertheless.  _ Barely _ . Through the crystal fury lurked a single, sober clarity - rational, silently asking…

Yuuri tangled his fingers in the hair at the back of Victor’s head, pulling him back down in another breathless kiss. He sighed his consent against the Captain’s lips, heart skipping a beat at the sharp suck of air that Victor stole from his lungs. It was intoxicating. It was heady. It was all for Victor-

Victor’s body leaned against Yuuri’s even firmer than before as he took back control of the kiss, sliding his tongue into Yuuri’s mouth.

It was all so  _ much. _

They were in an old classroom, Yuuri finally noticed with a flicker off his eyes over Victor’s shoulder, glimpsing the haphazard lump of desks and chairs pushed up against the back wall behind them. And all that separated them from the rest of the Scout Regiment was one door. Just one door, and a flimsy lock. It was nothing, and yet everything. Their secret so close to being discovered if only someone had a key, if one of them moaned too loud, or someone spotted the evidence of their release smudged clumsily on their clothes as they left.

The risk just made it all the more thrilling through. Adrenaline pulsed through Yuuri’s veins like a drug, singing his senses to life and renewing his weary body all over again. 

His hips rolled up. He wanted it - needed it! Blood pounded thickly in his ears and Yuuri couldn't tell the lust from bloodlust as Victor caught his lower lip between his teeth and pulled, iron spilling into Yuuri’s mouth. Yuuri let himself get drunk on it, his body crying out for more, begging for release.

Tension coiled in his gut, hot and needy. He knew exactly what burn it - his hand slipped down from clenching in Victor’s sleeve, winding down between their hips, reaching for Victor.

Victor caught his wrist.

Tight fingers stopped Yuuri’s hand in his tracks - just millimeters away from Victor’s belt - before it slammed it back against the wall, pinning Yuuri back.

Yuuri gasped, body arching. Need flared up inside him, burning him up from inside his uniform, hot and unexpected. Yuuri was all touch and sensation, alert to even the slightest brush of Victor’s fingertip over the pulse in his wrist, pressing over the veins.

Victor’s mouth grazed off Yuuri’s, gasping for breath against the cadet’s cheek. 

“I’m alive because of you,” he said, voice low and dark. 

_ Seductive _ . 

It held all the commanding authority of Victor’s rank, Yuuri’s skin crawling on instinct, fine tuned to listen to every syllable and obey. It was what he was trained for. They were both still primed for battle, the rush not yet worn off, the blood still racing through their bodies with the need to move, to conquer, to claim - 

“I want to fuck you so badly right now.”

Victor’s forehead dropped down to Yuuri’s shoulder, breath catching like there wasn’t enough oxygen in the air. 

Yuuri knew better though. He understood; the tightness in his chest betrayed the same want that burned in Victor’s eyes, bodies both just wound so tight that there was no escaping it. It was so raw, so primal. The need to take and be taken.

A pleading  _ ‘yes’ _ was right on the tip of Yuuri’s tongue, so ready. He was ready to agree to nearly anything Victor suggested in that moment.

Victor kissed him first.

The Captain’s words echoed in Yuuri’s ears, Victor’s will the only thing he was living for in that classroom.  _ I’m alive because of you _ . It took Yuuri a moment to process. When he did, he gasped - the Titan in the city! Yuuri’s spontaneous little break of formation in the city street, slaying and killing, while Victor rode past in a shimmer of silver hadn’t angered the Captain. It had turned him on. 

Enough that he needed Yuuri  _ now. _

_ Holy shit. _

Yuuri whined into Victor’s mouth, the thought going straight to his cock. If only Victor knew that he had the same effect, that the first time Yuuri had jerked himself off to the thought of the Captain all those years ago, it had been with crimson staining his long silver hair and streaked over his cheek.

Now, it was Yuuri’s smudge of blood smeared at the corner of Victor’s mouth. And,  _ damn,  _ it looked so good on him.

Yuuri’s hips jerked.

He wanted more.

“Ah!”

Rough fingers dug into the still blossoming bruise on his shoulder and Yuuri couldn’t help crying out, sound ripping from his throat before he could stop it. It didn’t matter. It really didn’t matter. Pain was just another sensation now, one that went straight down to Yuuri’s straining cock. Right alongside touch, and kiss, and -

- _ fuck -  _

Yuuri’s knees hit the floor.

It didn’t take much; one tiny push from Victor and Yuuri’s body just folded, sliding down the wall to his will. He gasped as he hit the ground, like the world itself had been rocked.

It was the last thing on his mind though, when his eyeline settled right over the bulge in Victor’s trousers. His mouth watered. He wanted to reach for it. He wanted to rip at Victor’s belt and tear at his zip, to pull, and twist, and suck, and devour until Victor was falling apart underneath him, until he could  _ taste  _ the passion they made together. He didn’t though - couldn’t. Not without orders, blood still humming with the distant need to be commanded.

The order never came. Instead, Victor’s fumbling fingers did the job themselves. Why was he shaking? Nevermind, it didn’t matter, Yuuri decided.

All he could do was watch as Victor’s belt clinked free. As the button of his trousers popped silently open and the teeth of his zip uncurled one torturous inch at a time, the mechanics too slow to keep up with Yuuri’s racing pulse. Yuuri’s chest heaved with his heavy breaths from just watching and hands fisting in his trousers, nails biting into his thighs. He was already leaning forward.

Victor pushed his trousers down with his underwear in one swift motion, his solid erection bobbing free. 

Yuuri’s eyes honed in on it.

He never got tired of seeing Victor’s cock. Long and thick, curved slightly to the left with a thick vein running along the underside until it disappeared under the pinch of skin of his frenulum. The head flushed pink. It glistened in the thin slither of sunlight leaking through the high window and Yuuri felt his breath catch, watching with a thundering heart as another clear bead of precum oozed out of his Captain. And Victor wanted him to do more than just look.

Rough fingers curled into the hair at the back of Yuuri’s head before he could finish his next exhale, yanking him forward. His lips bumped the head of Victor’s cock.

Yuuri’s eyes fluttered.

His tongue darted out of its own accord, tasting the saltiness clinging to his lips and the moisture still leaking out of Victor, betraying how aroused he really was behind those raging eyes and taut muscles. It made Yuuri’s cock jump within its confines with anticipation.

He moaned hard, sound rumbling from his chest and vibrating over Victor’s length, freeing another burst of precum. Yuuri lapped it up eagerly, tongue flicking over Victor’s head. 

The Captain hissed above him, hand tightening in Yuuri’s hair.

He wasn’t here to be teased.

Yuuri didn’t need to be told twice - his mouth opened, wet and compliant, as Victor pulled him forward again, lips parting around the head of Victor’s cock. He sucked almost instantly.

Victor moaned brokenly above him. The sound was beautiful, wrenching from the Captain’s mouth as his body fell forward, forearm hitting the blackboard with a thud. His hips jerked forward, knocking Yuuri back. The cadet only hummed around Victor - even as the back of his head hit the wall and stars popped behind his eyes - the hinge of his jaw falling further open and letting the Captain sink deeper into his mouth.

All finesse went out of the window. Everything was wet and clumsy, Yuuri barely able to keep up with Victor’s wild, mismarked thrusts into his mouth, but if either of them cared, they didn’t let it show.

He just licked and sucked as best he could while Victor literally fucked into him, tip knocking against the back of his throat. Yuuri clung to Victor’s hip. It helped. So did the hand fisted tight and unrelenting in his hair, holding his head still, holding him anchored to reality. It was rough, and brutal… and somehow, everything Yuuri needed. His throat burned, his jaw hurt - but something inside him hummed in contentment as Victor just  _ took  _ what he wanted. Yuuri had never felt less anxious in his life.

His own cock throbbed between his legs, screaming for attention. He was still clothed, trapped, and desperate to be touched.

Yuuri whined around Victor.

Victor gasped.

His hand tightened in Yuuri’s hair and pulled him back, string of saliva trailing between his tip and Yuuri’s mouth as he pulled away.

And when Yuuri’s hazy eyes snapped up to him, Victor’s breath caught. “ _ Fuck _ ...”

He couldn’t pull Yuuri up fast enough. His hands were clumsy, grasping at anything they could find whether it was clothes or skin - anything to get Yuuri up and closer to him. Yuuri leaned up for Victor’s mouth the second he was upright, chin tipped up, eyes hooding, lips parting oh-so tempting...

Victor twisted him at hips, shoving Yuuri face first against the blackboard. Chalk puffed as the air knocked out of him.

He didn’t waste any time.

His hands attacked Yuuri’s belt from behind, breaths impossibly loud in his ear in anticipation and fingers clumsy. A growl rumbled in his chest, sound barely human. A part of him knew he was being ridiculous; needy and possessive, in a way that he knew he just keep locked away, something that shouldn’t see the light of day… but Yuuri had a way of making him lose control of his senses.

Then Yuuri’s hands joined his too. They were both shaky as they wrestled with the zipper of Yuuri’s trousers, fingers slipping and hands just grabbing fistfuls of flesh, seeking out more heated sighs in the lingering seconds their bodies stayed parted. It was torture. 

Together, they shoved Yuuri’s trousers down his hips, his erection bumping against the inside of Victor’s wrist as it sprung free.

Victor’s forehead dropped down onto the back of Yuuri’s shoulder, eyes pinching shut. His hand gripped hard at Yuuri’s hip. He couldn’t wait any longer, blood running hot and desperate through his veins, craving release.

Victor’s cock - still wet with Yuuri’s spit - thrust between Yuuri’s thighs. 

“ _ Ah _ !”

The Captain fought not to come on the spot from the guttural sound that tore from his cadet’s delectable lips and the firm, yet soft pressure of Yuuri’s strong thighs pressed tight around him. 

His body slammed into Yuuri from behind, hand twisting in the hair at the back of Yuuri’s head, turning his face to the side so he could see his expression. It was perfect. Lips parted, eyes fluttered shut, and gorgeous flush painted across his cheeks - a vision of ecstasy. And when Victor’s hand curled around his length and pumped, Yuuri tipped his head back and moaned hard.

They wouldn’t last long. Victor could feel it. He was too wound up, too tense, too rough with Yuuri. His control was slipping, the slight tug of skin on skin against his cock only shredding it further. Yuuri’s blowjob wasn’t enough for a smooth glide - but it was better than waiting until later. Victor couldn’t wait. He needed him now.

The tip of his cock bumped against Yuuri’s balls with every thrust, popping sparks behind Yuuri’s eyes. Moans spilled from his lips, embarrassingly loud.

Yuuri knew he should be embarrassed. Victor had him pinned him against the blackboard, body smothering his from behind and chalk smudging over his cheek with every thrust that rocked him forward. The friction was delicious. His gut coiled tighter with every piston of Victor’s hips - cock squeezing between his toned thighs - each experienced twist of his hand pushing him closer to the edge.

His teeth crashed down on his lip, tasting blood. He wouldn’t last long, that was for sure. But judging by the ragged grunts in his ear, neither would Victor.

Yuuri squeezed his thighs, muscles tight.

Victor’s hips stuttered.

His fingers dug brutally into the plump skin of Yuuri’s hip, lips fastening onto the skin where his neck met his shoulder and  _ biting  _ hard, muffling his groan as he came between Yuuri’s thighs and more wetness spilled around his fingers curled around Yuuri’s cock. Yuuri’s body shuddered beneath his, every jerk and tremble pressed tight against Victor’s chest. Victor held onto him tight, savouring the sensation.

His arms kept Yuuri anchored to the world while sparks popped over his skin and lights burst behind his eyes, kept him chained to earth as he slumped back against the warmth of Victor’s body and sighed. 

Air rushed into his lungs hard and fast, head spinning. Victor’s hands clutched at the front of Yuuri’s shirt, hanging on tight. Yuuri focused on that as his soul fluttered back into his body, feeling the fatigue setting into his bones. His legs felt heavy. The press of Victor’s body was probably the only thing keeping him upright, and the touch of his forehead against the back of Yuuri’s shoulder the only thing keeping him sane.

He didn’t mind. He didn’t care. He clung back just as desperately, lapping up the warmth and comfort, surrendering to the fantasy for one more minute before reality came back knocking.

“ _ Yuuri _ .”

Victor sighed over the back of his neck, lifting the tiny hairs to stand bolt upright from his skin and sending chills down his spine. 

Yuuri couldn’t explain the drop of his heart into his stomach, but he knew what caused it. His eyes peeled open, cold washing over the surface of his exposed skin, Victor’s touch suddenly like ice.

It was the first time in the whole encounter that Victor had said his name.

 

* * *

It was still on Yuuri’s mind hours later, when the adrenaline had faded and lingering shock was all that remained. Shock, and hurt.

And he just couldn’t stop  _ thinking. _

He sat hunched in the chair across from Victor’s desk, legs crossed and chin propped up on his fist, elbow on his thigh. His eyes honed in on Victor’s plush chair on the other side of the desk. It was like Victor himself was watching him somehow, watching him squirm. It made Yuuri’s skin crawl. 

He couldn’t get it out of his head. 

How Victor had dragged him away, pinned him against the wall, and fucked away without even saying his name until he was sated. Like it didn’t matter. Like anybody could have been in Yuuri’s place in that moment.

The thought burned in Yuuri’s chest, ribcage tightening. He blinked fast against the hot prick in the corner of his eye.

And now Victor was late.

Yuuri uncurled his fingers, letting his hand run over his face, fingers delving into his hair. He didn’t want to think about it. He really didn’t. He didn’t want to think about where Victor might be - who he might be with - what he might do if any lingering adrenalin rattled through his veins on his way back to his office…

Yuuri scrunched his eyes shut, sucking in a ragged gasp. It shouldn’t bother him. It shouldn’t. He was just a cadet the Captain picked out of many to fool around with. It shouldn’t bother him.

But it did.

The door creaked behind him.

“Hey,” Victor’s voice said, paired with the tell tale click of the lock that Yuuri had become familiar with over the last few weeks. “Sorry I’m late. I was just-”

Yuuri didn’t turn. He couldn’t turn.

He just pressed his lips together, like it might have the same effect on his composure somehow. His heart still ached traitorously though, eyes stinging. Victor’s voice sounded light and easy - happy. It hurt somehow, like a dagger right to Yuuri’s chest, carving open his ragged soul mercilessly. His hands fisted. His blood burned hot. He didn’t know what to feel, clashed between anger, and pain, and confusion, and -

“Yuuri?”

Victor’s footsteps were soft. Too soft. Tentative. 

Yuuri felt the air stiffen in a heartbeat, knowing there would be no walking around how he felt. It was too late now.

He was torn inside. 

If Victor didn’t care about Yuuri - if he was just another boy he fucked - then why put him in his squad? Why protect him like that? It could do more than get him in trouble if anything had gone wrong, if Yuuri had gotten stuck, or hurt, or his lack of skill and experience exposed. Why would Victor take that risk on a nameless, faceless body he could fuck in an empty classroom to burn off the last of his battle energy?

It didn’t make sense, and it hurt in more ways than one. Yuuri didn’t know what to do. He wanted to cry, and tear his hair out, and scream - plead to know why he wasn’t good enough...

“I’m not weak,” trembled from his lips instead, hands trembling over his mouth. “I’m… I’m not...”

He wasn’t sure where it came from. 

Maybe it was the tears he was barely holding back at the idea of Victor with somebody else. Maybe it was the insult of being tucked away in the safest part of the formation for the mission, where the fighting would be minimal. Like Yuuri needed protection. Like he couldn’t handle himself anywhere else but mollycoddled at Victor’s side, while his friends fought and died on the front lines.

It wasn’t fair.

Victor took another slow step forward. 

“I know that,” he said, voice careful. “Nobody who knows you would ever think that.”

The words just drove the knife deeper into Yuuri’s chest, the hurt spearing out like rods of lightning. It tingled his fingertips, hardened his breaths...

“Then  _ why… _ ”

His voice cracked traitorously at the last note. Yuuri just let himself crumple. 

_ Why me,  _ he wanted to ask. Why choose him to save? Why choose him to underestimate? Why choose him to fuck? Why choose him to bring into his space, into his home? Why choose him to hold at night and whisper sweet words into his ear as he slept? Why choose him for all of it? Being with Victor had ruined everything irrevocably for the rest of his life, long beyond salvation.

Because - despite everything - Yuuri knew he would never be able to love another ever again as much as he loved Victor.

He flinched when gentle fingertips touched his back. His body twitched of its own accord, leaping up from the chair and twisting back until his hips knocked against the edge of Victor’s desk, forcing him to finally face the man himself. The spot where Victor had touched him burned like hot coals had scorched him, branding him beyond repair. It hurt deeper than skin, shattering something that sent pain crackling through every cell in his body.

Victor watched him with round eyes over the chair, arm still outstretched, fingers still reaching for him, lonely and lost...

“Yuuri...”

Yuuri didn’t like the look in Victor’s eyes. It was glittering and hurt - hurt like he felt rippling through his own chest and that Victor had no right to feel too. He was the one that had done this, who had done everything.

The Captain’s fingers curled into a fist and dropped down to the back of the chair, clenching tight. His gaze hardened a fraction.

“Yuuri.”

The chair didn’t make a sound as Victor wrenched it aside, but Yuuri flinched like it had thundered. He couldn’t help it. 

For once, he didn’t want Victor anywhere near him.

His muscles tensed on instinct, sending shots of pain racing up his body. He was still hurting, still aching and sore from the mission. His body didn’t want to fight anymore. But as Victor strode closer, steps driven with purpose, that was exactly what it braced for. Red alarms flared in Yuuri’s head as Victor’s arms lifted, fingers reaching for his face with that tender look in his  eye that usually flashed right before he drew Yuuri in for a passionate kiss.

Yuuri jerked before he could help it - he slapped Victor’s hand away. Victor stopped in his tracks. They both froze at the harsh crack of skin on skin, sound bouncing around the room mockingly.

“No,” Yuuri found himself saying, blinking fast. His eyelashes felt wet, sticking together.  _ Shit,  _ he was crying after all. “No, I don’t want to have sex.”

Victor looked just as shocked as Yuuri felt.

His hand still hung in the air, cant to the side where Yuuri’s strike had knocked it away. Wide eyes stared out from his face, lips parted ever so slightly with whatever sweet words and sweet kiss he had been about to murmur into Yuuri’s skin. 

Yuuri wasn’t going to let him kiss it away this time. 

“Why?” Yuuri’s hands trembled as much as his voice, shaking with humiliation, and rage, and any emotion Victor hadn’t robbed him off in the classroom. “Why did you do it?”

Victor’s mouth shot open.

He knew exactly what Yuuri was asking, had known this moment was coming the moment he’d signed the cadet’s name next to his in the battle formation. It was unfair. It was wrong. He shouldn’t have done it, he knew that. But he’d take this any day - facing Yuuri’s hurt and rage - over signing his death certificate and saluting over his casket.

_ Because I love you,  _ Victor wanted to say, words springing to the forefront of his mind the moment his mouth opened.

Because it was true.

They stuck in his throat though, choking him from the inside out. A lump wedged in his chest, aching above his heart like he was suffocating.

He wanted to say it. He  _ needed _ to say it. It was the truth that had hummed through Victor’s being for the last month, his drive to keep waking up in the morning and survive for the chance to see Yuuri writhe in  _ pleasure  _ \- no, Victor cut himself off sharply. It wasn’t just for sex. It was just to  _ see  _ Yuuri. To see him smile, to hear his laugh, to feel the softness of his skin, and hear his breaths level out as he fell asleep, heartbeat steady under Victor’s palm…

But he couldn’t say it.

_ Why  _ couldn’t he say it?

His hands curled into fists and his head hung, finally snapping his mouth shut in frustration. Something burned behind his eyes. Victor blinked furiously. 

What was wrong with him? All he wanted to do was be with Yuuri. Make him feel special, keep him safe, make him happy… but he couldn’t even get that right. A strangled noise clawed its way out of his throat, fists clenched so tight his nails dug hard into the flesh of his palms. He didn’t care. He barely felt it for the ringing in his ears and the tightness around his chest. What was  _ wrong  _ with him?

He didn’t deserve Yuuri. Yuuri was sweet, and kind, and beautiful - and for some reason, willing to risk his future for the sake of one reckless Captain who couldn’t even wait until they were back in his office to have his wicked way with him. It was shameful. Disgraceful. No wonder Yuuri-

-was … hugging him.

Victor blinked, eyes round.  _ What? _

“I’m sorry,” blubbered in his ear, Yuuri’s arms winding around his neck and wetness dabbing on his skin where Yuuri buried his face into the side of Victor’s neck. He was crying.

It made Victor’s chest tighten even more.

“I’m sorry,” Yuuri sobbed again. His arms were trembling. “I’m so sorry, I just-”  _ hiccup  _ “I-I thought… I mean, I didn’t-”

_ Oh Yuuri…  _

Victor’s mouth opened, longing to say something - anything - that might help, that might stop Yuuri from crying. There were no words though. Victor was still mute, shock rolling over him cold and crushing. He barely had the presence of mind to lift his arms, to wind them around Yuuri’s shoulders the way the cadet clung to his. He couldn’t help it - he just wanted Yuuri to stay close to him.

Victor’s eyes stared wide over Yuuri’s shoulder, staring at the colours of the sunset splashing against the panes of glass that made up the window behind them. Red spilled from the horizon outside, bleeding into the little clear squares.

Like blood.

How much blood had they both seen today? How many men had they watched die so far from their homes, never to see their loved ones again? 

The thought made Victor hold Yuuri all the tighter, just thankful to be holding him at all. His cheeks felt cold. It was another moment before he realised he was crying too, sucking in a broken gasp. He may have saved Yuuri - but in doing so, how many others had he been willing to sacrifice to keep the cadet in his arms? Salt ran over his lips, hot and wet. He didn’t know. He wasn’t sure his conscience could bear to know.

Outside, the sun set on the camp slowly. Mockingly. Reds and oranges spilled over the land in a harsh crash of colour, soldiers of every kind watching on for some reason or another. In thanks. In memory. In honour of being alive to see it.

And some didn’t see it at all for standing safe in their lover’s arms, weeping freely, until the colours ran black, and new stars twinkled in the night sky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keep tabs on my tumblr [here](https://justrae2010.tumblr.com/) and check out my other YOI fics [here](http://archiveofourown.org/users/justrae2010/pseuds/justrae2010)
> 
> Please drop a comment before you go !
> 
> Hope you liked it!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm late! I'm sorry! 
> 
> This chapter was supposed to be longer, but the more I wrote the more I realised that it would be waaaaaaaaaaay too long of a chapter. So I split it. On the plus side, it means the next chapter is already half written so should be out a lot quicker than this one. 
> 
> Here's Part 1, hope you enjoy!

“ _ Uhn _ ...”

Yuuri jerked awake to a dark room, the floor of Victor’s office hard and uncomfortable beneath them with midnight stars still blinking through the window.

The pain hit him first.

He felt the hurt before he’d even moved. It pulled deep at the muscles in his thighs and back, aching bone deep in an exhaustion that he’d never quite felt before. Every twitch felt stiff and forced as he shifted, a sharp pinch in his neck and the floor hard and unforgiving underneath his hip. He groaned in semi-consciousness, feeling the dried tear tracks on his face crack and shatter under the movement - that hurt too.

But it wasn’t what had woken him.

“Uh- _ uhn _ !”

Yuuri frowned before he peeled his eyes open, blinking groggily at the ceiling. The noise whimpered oh-so quietly in his ear, high pitched, soft and… terrified.

He knew what it was long before he turned his head.

Victor was laid out on his side in the moonlight, Yuuri’s jacket draped over his shoulders and bangs splayed out over his face, flicking in little flashes of silver with every twitch of his head. His eyebrows pinched together, bottom lip quivering. Cold sweat glistened from his forehead, trembling fingers curled into the carpet for dear life like it was all that held him anchored to the world.

The sleeping Captain groaned again, drawing his knees up higher, curling in on himself. Yuuri couldn’t help staring.

He’d never seen Victor so… vulnerable.

Paleness clung to his Captain’s cheeks, dark bags pressing under his eyes even in his restless slumber. His brow pinched against his nightmares, eyes ringed red and silver eyelashes glued together.

The noise he made sounded so broken. It sounded needy and frail, pushed through gritted teeth while the upturned eyebrows betrayed the fear behind it. Yuuri had never heard a sound like it before. The closest he could think of was the whine he’d heard when his dog had cracked a bone in his leg years ago, fragile sobs and whimpers the only thing he’d had to show his pain.

That was all Victor was reduced to; fear that was so primal, buried so deep beneath the skin that it went past anything human to rationalise it. Basic instincts were all that were left, all that made sense.

Yuuri jumped when Victor jerked beside him, fingers curling into the loose sleeve of Yuuri’s shirt pooled on the carpet.

A shuddering breath pulled through Yuuri’s lips.

And another.

And  _ another _ .

And another, right until-

Something grabbed his wrist.

He didn’t get a chance to see the world spin. By the time Yuuri had snapped his eyes open, his back was already thudding hard against the floor, air knocking out of his lungs and heart skipping a beat with shock. Weight settled heavy over his chest, something sharp pinching at his throat.

Blue like crystal wildfire stared down at him, fierce, blazing and - the last of Yuuri’s breath squeezed out of him -  _ Victor. _

It was a look Yuuri knew well. He’d seen it the day he’d first met Victor, on every mission beyond the wall - he’d seen it  _ yesterday, _ as Victor had pounced from his horseback and flown through the air with his ODM gear, a tornado of fury as his blades carved into Titan after Titan, kill after kill… that was the look in Victor’s eyes. Savage and predatory, hazed with instinct. His beautiful face was drawn back in a snarl - barely inches away from his own - teeth bared like an animal, like he was ready to tear Yuuri’s throat out with those alone.

Victor stared down at Yuuri like he was ready to kill.

Yuuri’s body jerked on instinct.

Nothing happened.

His arm tugged but it was held down by Victor’s knee digging into the inside of his elbow at his side, the Captain straddling his chest and pinning his left hand beside his head. Unrelenting fingers held it there, Victor’s spare hand curled around a knife. Yuuri recognised the cold kiss of metal at his throat easily.

He tipped his head back, hardly daring to breathe. Every movement just pressed his skin further against the blade, bearing deeper and deeper...

_ “Ah!” _

Yuuri cried out more in fear than pain when he felt the blade cut through the first barriers of his skin, warmth running over the side of his neck in a thin, unmistakable trail. The blood came first - the pain came afterwards, like an afterthought, like it didn’t matter.

“Victor!” he all but screamed before he could help it, pinned by the blue fury of Victor’s eyes. “Victor - it’s me! It’s Yuuri!”

The knife paused - and Victor blinked.

Yuuri didn’t dare relax, heart still pounding like a jackhammer behind his ribs - not even as the mist in Victor’s gaze parted before his eyes and cool, bright blue took its place, alert, aware… and as they found Yuuri, confused.

It didn’t last.

Victor’s eyes travelled to the knife - blade still pressed into Yuuri’s bleeding skin – and whatever expression was left turned into cold, hard horror in the space of a heartbeat.

The knife fell out of his hand.

“Oh my God!”

Victor scrambled back. He crawled and clawed away from Yuuri like his life depended on it, dragging and kicking back until his back hit the wall of his desk a hard, blunt thud. It echoed round the room, mocking, matched with the sound of Victor’s rasping breaths and the stark white shine to his wide eyes. They didn’t move from Yuuri, glued to the cadet.

“I-I didn’t…” he gasped, hand raking through his still sleep tangled silver bangs. “Did I? N-no… I didn’t mean…”

Yuuri barely heard him.

He was too busy gasping for air himself - weak and raspy - before whatever else Victor might have said was drowned out by a howl of pain. Hurt flared down the front of his neck, cut pulling painfully with every gulp of air he swallowed. Yuuri clutched at his throat, feeling his palm wet with his own blood.

He stared wide eyed at the ceiling, ribs aching and limbs lined with lead in shock. His mind reeled, still trying to understand.

What had just  _ happened? _

The sound of his own manic heartbeat echoed in his ears like a drumbeat, chest hitching with every strained breath. Every ticking second that went by should have helped - Victor across the room and Yuuri slowly inching his way along the floor - but it didn’t. Instead, it just got worse. The air got thinner. The adrenaline spiked. Yuuri knew what was happening, knew what it meant …

“Yuuri?”

_ That  _ voice was back. That voice that had woken Yuuri in the first place, broken, fragile and vulnerable - terrified. It pulled at Yuuri’s heart, gut twisting in horror that he could still feel that after what … what  _ had  _ just happened?

Yuuri just slumped on the floor, catching whatever oxygen he could cling to in the impossibly thin air. “I-I should go.”

He should.

He  _ really  _ should.

He picked himself up slowly. His hand still clutched loosely at his throat - blood already starting to dry on his skin - and his knees clicked as he folded them beneath him, head light and dazed when it lifted up off the floor. His legs swayed beneath him when he straightened up, vision blurry and tilting. His glasses, he realised. He didn’t have his glasses…

And any thought of looking for them went right out of the window though as Victor’s eyes flickered up to him from the deskside, stained with tears and absolutely terrified. Victor’s fingers were still clenched in his hair, gripping hard enough to pull at the roots.

“No…” he said, voice cracking and gaze flashing with something even more desperate than panic. “No, Yuuri, please-”

Yuuri stumbled back a step, breath hitching.

“ _ No _ !”

Victor pitched forward, knees thudding hard into the floor. His watery eyes shot wide, tears flickering off his eyelashes.

_ “Please _ -please don’t leave!”

Trembling fingers reached out and Yuuri couldn’t tear his eyes away, mouth falling open in a gasp, a scream, a sob - he wasn’t even sure anymore. Nothing came out, chest pumping air in and out of his lungs with nothing but a rasp along to the thud of his heartbeat. He should leave, he told himself again. He should go…

His knees hit the floor hard, head falling forward. His eyes pinched shut in bitter surrender, but it still didn’t take the sight away, Victor’s pleading gaze still begging behind his eyelids.

A strangled sound choked out of Yuuri’s lips, body shuddering hard.

He couldn’t do it.

He couldn’t go.

The realisation terrified him, sending ice washing down his spine and tightness clenching around his heart. He couldn’t leave - even when Victor all but tried to kill him, he still couldn’t walk away. He couldn’t leave Victor…

He couldn’t move as he heard Victor scrabble forward, loud, clumsy - so  _ unlike _ the collected Captain he knew on the surface. The man crawling forward on his hands and knees with tears streaked down his face wasn’t the Captain though. It was barely Victor. Yuuri wasn’t sure what it was. Some creature of pain and fear, something of instinct and emotions rather than rationale and reason. It was as endearing as it was terrifying, so new and vulnerable.

And Yuuri couldn’t leave it.

Victor clung to Yuuri like a child. His arms were tight around him, his head pressed to his chest, ear over his heartbeat. He sniffled into the front of Yuuri’s shirt, trembling violently against him.

Yuuri reached up and threaded his fingers through the hair at the back of Victor’s head, holding him close. Something wet rolled over his cheek, dripping off the curve of his top lip into Victor’s hair. Yuuri peeked his eyes open to watch it go, world a crystallised mash of light and colour through his wet eyelashes.

The arms around Yuuri’s waist tightened, and he sighed, letting the air squeeze out of him in one, long stroke. His fingers softened in Victor’s hair.

They dragged lower. Fingertips followed the curve of the shell of Victor’s ear lobe, along the straight line of his jaw until they found the point of Victor’s delicate chin, cradling it gently between a thumb and crook of his forefinger. He tilted up slowly, lifting Victor’s sparkling gaze to his own.

Yuuri dipped down and kissed him before he could think better of it.

Victor’s lips were dry and wet at the same time, just a touch too firm from his dehydration yet salty from his tears. He yelped into Yuuri’s mouth, unsure, uncertain…

Yuuri wasn’t uncertain. He pressed his mouth against Victor’s too hard but not caring, relishing in the pressure against his lips and the way it slacked the tightness in his chest. The cut across his throat stung accusingly. Yuuri just ignored it, one arm cradling around Victor’s shoulders and the other running along the side of the Captain's body, down his sweat soaked shirt, over his loose belt, along the curve of his strong thighs with a hungry caress.

Yuuri hooked his arm under Victor’s knees without warning, straightening up and hitching the Captain up into his arms as he went.

Victor gasped, forehead dropping down to Yuuri’s shoulder.

Yuuri tried not to think about it.

He thought about the stars instead. They stared at him through the open curtained window as he stepped forward with slow, steady steps, twinkling delicately like they were blinking at him with the same tear stained sparkle that Victor had. Yuuri wasn’t sure what it meant, tearing his gaze away as he nudged the bedroom door open. Victor whimpered, a wave of cold air washing over them. Yuuri barely paused, shivering once, arms tightening around Victor.

He didn’t stop until he was leaning over the bed, Victor’s arms looped around his neck and reluctantly letting him sink down into the sheets from Yuuri’s hold. Careful fingers unwrapped his arms around Yuuri’s neck, guiding him down to the bed.

Yuuri crawled in half a beat behind him anyway.

He slipped under the sheets, fluffing them up until he could pull them over Victor’s hips. Victor’s eyes were barely open, eyelashes matted together.

They fluttered when Yuuri brushed the bangs back from his face and dipped down to kiss his forehead - nothing like their kiss in the office. This was all tenderly hooded eyes, relaxed lips, graze over graze of skin so soft it was barely there. Yuuri’s heart skipped an exhausted beat, savouring it. He clung close to the Captain.

Victor still shook as Yuuri settled up behind him and wrapped his arms around his waist, pulling them flush; back to chest, hip to hip, Yuuri as Victor’s big spoon, holding him through his tremors as he slipped back into an unsteady sleep. Yuuri’s hand slipped under Victor’s shirt, pressing over his heart. He felt his heartbeat, felt the steady pulse of life hum through Victor until it settled from rattling against his ribcage to the slow, even beat of exhaustion. The Captain’s breaths slowly evened out, tense muscles relaxing minute by painstaking minute.

Yuuri’s round eyes stared out across the bedroom darkness, stark and frowning. He didn’t sleep anymore that night, holding Victor through his nightmares like he was scared to let him go.

He was.

 

* * *

It was still dark when Yuuri finally peeled himself away from Victor in the early hours of the morning, eyes taut and painful from staring wide all night at nothing in his restlessness. Joints clicked. Muscles ached. His cheeks felt stiff, skin tight from the harsh down pull of his mouth for the last few uncountable hours of the night. He grimaced in discomfort at the tight stretch down his lower back and the sting in his wrist, holding his arm up to the faint glow of moonlight; the skin around his wrist was patched a shade darker than the rest, dotted in round marks - like fingerprints. Yuuri’s stomach flipped.

And his eyes shifted to Victor.

The Captain barely stirred when Yuuri slipped away. A groan from Victor, a pause from Yuuri - but then Victor just hummed in his sleep and stilled again, sinking into the pillows with eyes still gently closed.

He looked better. His once tense brow was now smooth, his breaths slow and even. He didn’t whimper or jerk in his sleep, fingers loose and soft over the pillow beside his head and lips gently parted, chest moving in barely there rises and falls of serene breaths. He looked at peace. Yuuri wasn’t sure he’d ever seen the Captain so tranquil.

Yuuri’s heart twisted in his chest, swallowing the lump in his throat. The gulp seemed to echo around the silent room like a drumbeat.

He closed the bedroom door silently behind him.

His eyes pressed shut the moment he was alone, forehead dropping down against the wood of the doorframe. Air pushed heavily out of his lungs in a never ending exhale, but it didn’t do any good; his heart still felt full and tight, rib cage painfully strained. It felt like his chest would never deflate, flooded with tension. He didn’t know what to do anymore. He didn’t know how he was supposed to feel.

Something nudged gently at the back of Yuuri’s thigh and Yuuri pressed his lips tightly together, hotness pricking behind his eyes.  _ Makkachin.  _ He’d heard Christophe drop the dog back in Victor’s office sometime in the early hours of the morning, after he’d moved Victor to the bedroom.

Somehow, he just made everything worse. The dog was careful and probing, and it speared through Yuuri’s heart, fingernails clawing into the wood of the door frame as he felt his heart ache painfully in his chest. He was barely holding it together.

He didn’t know what to do.

It burned inside him like the worst kind of adrenaline. His body itched to lash out like an animal but his mind was stark with lucidity. Energy hummed beneath his skin like an electric current, but it felt like a barely contained monster, like once the gateway was open Yuuri wouldn’t be able to stop more coming through, out of control and full of regret for his weakness from the moment he let go…

Just like he had yesterday, after the mission.

The joints in his hand popped in their tight fists, knuckles white. What had he been  _ thinking  _ confronting Victor like that?

The words went over and over in his head; his confrontation, his accusation, his demand for answers that were not his place to ask for … no wonder Victor had turned on him. Perhaps he’d decided enough was enough with Yuuri at last, and it was time to finish the job, keep him quiet forever for his insolence. Now would be a good time to do it. Nobody even knew Yuuri was there. He would just disappear. It wasn’t like Yuuri didn’t deserve it. He’d yelled at a Captain. He’d  _ refused  _ him - what the hell had possessed him to refuse Victor?! No one – no one! – talked to a Captain like that and got away with it.

Yuuri’s hands pressed firmer against the door, like Victor would burst through at any moment with crystal fire in his eyes and blood in his heart, something hot and barbed curling in his gut. The wood creaked in protest.

Yuuri’s heart skipped a beat.

_ He was asleep _ , Yuuri tried to tell himself, trying to force himself to calm down. Victor was fast asleep behind the door with blissful dreams and sound thoughts, not caring about Yuuri, no way he could hurt him. The knife was with Yuuri after all, its presence bearing into the back of his head from across the office like the blade was watching him.

Not that it really mattered. Victor was fury in human form, the deadliest man to exist – if he wanted to kill Yuuri, he wouldn’t need a knife to do it.

The thought made the tiny hairs on the back of Yuuri’s neck stand on end, ice washing down his spine. He could feel the knife behind him, could feel its presence like some kind of demon darkening the room. It was like a wolf stalking a deer, a hunter tracking its prey. All the knife needed was a hand to wield it, a driving force to plunge it down into Yuuri’s heart-

Yuuri slapped a hand over his mouth to hide his whimper. He didn’t want Victor to hear, didn’t want to wake him.

He had to get out of there. He couldn’t stay - not with the knife right there behind him - and he couldn’t leave Makkachin. He wouldn’t be able to bear it if the dog hurt himself because he’d left him alone while Victor slept. It wasn’t his fault that things were like this, that everything was going wrong.

Yuuri pushed away from the door to grab the leash Victor kept in the bottom draw of his desk, trying to ignore the prick of temptation to glance up and see…  _ it. _

He felt it nudge at the edge of his vision, urging him to look at the knife lying there on the floor still red with his blood. Yuuri’s hands just shook at the thought, leaving the desk draw wide open as he bolted his spine straight and made a beeline for the office door, not breaking stride for a moment to hook the lead to Makkachin’s collar, guiding him away with him. He didn’t look back -  _ couldn’t  _ look back.

His legs were running the moment the office door thudded shut behind him, sound like a cannon exploding, sparking his barely held together nerve.

Yuuri just ran.

He wasn’t sure how long for. The sun rose over his head as he bolted round the barracks, pale light spilling over the Scouts dorms and dancing in glorious yellows, oranges, and blues, sun blinding on the horizon like a blazing ball of fire. Any other time, it would have been beautiful. As it was, every yelp from Makkachin made Yuuri jump. Every time his knees clicked from exertion, his heart skipped a beat. Every creak of a door, or laugh wafting on the breeze, or pound of boots on the ground as more people ran around the camp – it all set his teeth on edge, his nerves fried.

He ran until he couldn’t breathe. Until his legs were on fire with lactic acid and muscles pained, until his lungs choked desperately for air and every blink flickered more endless sweat out of his eyes. His shirt was drenched, earning him more than one funny look when he realised it was still fringed red with his own blood, leaking through the fabric with sweat. He couldn’t stop. He didn’t dare stop. All he could think about as he ran was the next step - as exhausting as it was - and the pain flaring through his body. If he stopped, that would be gone - and Yuuri was terrified as to what he would think of next instead.

But he could only run so far.

And as the tugging on the lead reminded him, so could Makkachin. The dog was already panting hard, slowly its pace behind Yuuri.

How long had it been? An hour? Two? Yuuri couldn’t tell, praying it was the shorter option. The less time had passed, the more likely that Victor was still asleep. Yuuri still hadn’t figured anything out, what to say, what to do… he hadn’t made sense of anything. What did this mean for him and Victor? He still didn’t know what was going through the Captain’s mind, whether he wanted to kill or cuddle him. It was insane…

He blinked back tears, steps lagging and boots catching on every other step back to the offices. Makkachin pulled him back to Victor’s more than Yuuri guided him, the pooch finally picking up pace just as Yuuri’s knees were about to give out.

He still wasn’t sure what to do.

What if he saw Victor?

Honestly, he hadn’t planned that far ahead yet. His jacket and glasses were still inside Victor’s office but Yuuri didn’t want to linger any longer than he had to searching for his things. He just wanted to drop Makkachin back and bolt again, running until reality caught up with him as it inevitably would. He couldn’t run forever - but it wouldn’t stop him trying.

The dog lead slipped through his fingers just a door away from Victor’s office, breaths still darting hard and fast through his lungs as he doubled over, hands braced on his knees.

It was the wrong move.

His eyes rolled back in his skull just a second before his knees hit the floor and the world span in a mash of colour, shoulder falling against the hardwall the only thing stopping him from falling face first into the floorboards. Makkachin yipped. It sounded blurred and distant. Yuuri felt himself tip back like he was watching somebody else fall, spine slapping against the wall and wincing when the back of his head went too. His brain bounced around his skull like a ball in a jar, sound echoing sickeningly.

He knew what was happening in a heartbeat.  _ Oh God,  _ he groaned in his head. Why there? Why  _ now _ ? He’d only just staved it off last night, barely clinging to control, but that was long gone now, breaths heavy on his chest, each one laboured and loud.

Laughter wafted down the corridor, hitting him like a slap in the face.

Yuuri flinched.

It wasn’t Victor, was his first thought. It was too light to be Victor, whimsical and airy, in a way that Victor never was – not now anyway, not after what had happened. It was almost like a girl’s giggle, all shy, and coy, and-

It clicked suddenly.

_ Phichit! _

Phichit was close – close enough for Yuuri to hear him laugh, to hear the wet pucker of lips and the quiet murmur of voices just around the corner. Why was Phichit here?

Yuuri didn’t get a chance to wonder much further than that though before black dots stabbed at the edge of his vision and he hissed, pain shooting through his temples. He pinched his eyes shut, blocking it out. That was bad, he thought, breaths picking up even faster in his roller coasting panic, sound thick in his ears like he was listening from underwater.  _ Very bad.  _ Everything sounded so far away, Yuuri desperately clinging to whatever minute detail he could pick up on to cling him to consciousness.

The quiet click of a door shutting couldn’t come fast enough, the longest second of Yuuri’s life.

He caught Phichit’s chuckle bouncing off the walls, the soft bootfalls of his steps, counting down the seconds one by one until-

“Y-Yuuri?”

Everything froze.

The air ran thick with tension and Yuuri  _ felt _ his best friend’s eyes land on the back of his head in shock, that unmistakable nerve jumping in the back of Yuuri’s mind telling him that he wasn’t alone even if Phichit hadn’t just spluttered out his name in surprise.

Yuuri's eyes pinched tighter shut, groaning quietly. He couldn’t be relieved - he was too busy fighting for air, pins and needles tingling at his fingertips and head lolling against the wall.

Something solid settled against his shoulder. It felt like fingers.

He wasn’t going to last.

Yuuri knew it long before his mind started running away with him but it was still a shock when the black dots in his vision stabbed forward and rolled his eyes back in a skull, last gasp cut short. He slumped back, limp and out cold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter should be absolute filth.
> 
> Just sayin'.
> 
> Keep tabs on my tumblr [here](https://justrae2010.tumblr.com/) and check out my other YOI fics [here](http://archiveofourown.org/users/justrae2010/pseuds/justrae2010)
> 
> Please drop a comment before you go !
> 
> Hope you liked it!


	8. Chapter 8

Yuuri’s hands were shaking. He could feel it. They trembled like they had back on the boat after fleeing Shiganshina all those years ago, listening to the dying screams of those they were leaving behind and knowing that there was precious little that would actually keep the rest of them safe even if they did survive that nightfall. Like when he had first ridden out beyond the wall, fingers numb around his reins and fear heavy in his stomach. Like when he’d first looked a Titan in the eyes and seen death stare back, hungry for his soul…

His shuddering fingers clapped over his mouth to muffle his strangled whimper. The sound was barely human.

“W-what did he do?” Phichit’s voice spoke urgently in his ear. “Tell me, Yuuri, what did he do?!”

 _He …_ Victor _…_

Yuuri felt like he was going to be sick.

“Yuuri, your throat… is-is that blood…”

His throat hurt. Every gasp pulled at the obvious wound stretched over the front of his neck, pain staying keen and sharp instead of dulling; a stark reminder of what had happened, right alongside the bruising of his ribs and fingerprint marks pressed around his wrist. It all hit him with the force of a freight truck, none of the resignation he’d felt for it earlier.

Now, he was _thinking_ about it.

Now, he was panicking.

Yuuri clung to Phichit like Victor was going to reach out and grab him through the walls, drag him back to his office with the knife leaving a bloody trail in its wake. He couldn’t get those eyes out of his head - mad, feral, hungry for blood, ready to slit Yuuri’s throat and slaughter him right there on the floor of his office. What if Victor hadn’t snapped out of it? What if he hadn’t stopped at the thin bloodshed and clean sliced open Yuuri’s arteries instead, crushing his windpipe, cutting through his spine -

Phichit’s tears splashed down onto his face from above, running down Yuuri’s fingers and trailing down his wrist into the sleeve of his blood stained shirt. They felt hot, carving a path like fire over his ice cold skin. _I’m sorry_ , Yuuri wanted to say, crying and panting for air in his best friend’s arms, terrifying him.

He didn’t say anything though, saving his precious oxygen and praying silently to whatever god was listening for the gasps to stop - for it _all_ to stop!

A door cracked open.

Both boys froze.

“Yuuri?”

 _Victor_.

Ice washed through Yuuri’s veins, mouth falling open with a silent scream. He didn’t breathe. He forgot how, slave to the beat of his own climbing heartbeat matching Phichit’s, hands clamped over his ears like he could somehow forget the Captain’s voice, drown it out…

A door slammed, bouncing off the wall. The sound echoed like a gunshot. Yuuri flinched at the noise, shrinking further into his friend.

Phichit’s just arms tightened around him.

“Yuuri! Oh my God, Yuuri-”

 _No,_ Yuuri thought in a panic, though nothing but a sharp inhale of air actually passing through his lips. Even the voice in his head was hushed, terrified. Yuuri’s breath sounded impossibly loud in his ears, every clack of his nails against his skull like a clap of thunder, and -

Wild crackling blue eyes flashed in the back of his mind again, delirious and untamable as they’d borne down on Yuuri with a blade to his neck …

Yuuri’s breath hitched all over again.

His fingers curled around his skull, twisting in his hair, and a whine bounced off his ears - was that him? It didn’t sound like him. It didn’t sound like anything human. His eyes were wide, but they didn’t see. His hands trembled, but there was nothing to grab onto. The wall was hard and firm against his back and through his own broken gasps, Yuuri heard footsteps - loud, clumsy, stumbling bootfalls falling towards him … until his blurred vision blinked clear at last and through the murk of his own panic, Yuuri _saw._

Victor’s eyes found Yuuri in half a heartbeat - cowered up against the wall, arms wrapped around himself and barely breathing, chest just pumping air in and out of his lungs before he could draw any oxygen from it. Yuuri wasn’t sure if it was a trick of his own tears or if Victor’s gaze looked watery too, a clear ring of shocked white ringing his bright blue irises.

“W-what’s wrong with him?”

His voice wavered.

Yuuri’s next gasp punched out his lungs harder than the others - Victor’s voice never wavered. In all the time Yuuri had known him, Victor’s voice had never once trembled.

Until now.

Yuuri’s head dropped forward, his vision nothing but a mass of mashed up colours and the sting of eyelashes catching in his tears, clumping together. He couldn’t stop it, couldn’t even slow it. Knowing that Victor could see him made it all the worse, shivers crawling up Yuuri’s spine in a sickening combination of shame and fear.

Phichit sniffed. “I-I think he’s having some kind of p-panic attack.”

 _That was it_ , Yuuri thought, hearing the words around him thickly in ears like it was through water.

“How do I stop it?” Yuuri could hear the stark panic in Victor’s voice, barely contained. “What do I do?”

“ _I don’t know!”_

The air was thick with tension that even Yuuri could feel, even with his eyes glued to his knocking knees and heartbeat loud in his ears. It was all his fault. Everything was his fault. He should never had started this whole thing with Victor; the sex, the sleeping - everything. He should have kept to himself that day in the showers. If he’d have stayed away then maybe, just maybe-

Warmth grazed over his cold cheek, making him gasp. His eyes bolted wide in surprise, head jerking up.

Bright blue eyes met him - level with his own – and gentle fingers brushed the hair out of his eyes, tucking the unruly strands behind his ears. Victor’s hand lingered, cupping his face.

Yuuri groaned into the warmth, heart leaping in his chest. Yuuri didn’t know what that meant. If his body was just reacting to the warmth, or the fact that it was _Victor_ , or the fact that it was Victor so close to him in front of Phichit…Victor’s thumb brushed over the still tender cut on Yuuri’s throat.

Yuuri winced.

“Oh, Yuuri…”

A blink, and he would have missed it. Just one second, and Yuuri could have missed the dark look that flashed in Victor’s eyes, sobering his panic as he watched Victor’s dry up right in front of him.

Only Yuuri didn’t blink - and he saw _everything_.

“Yuuri, I want you to listen to me.”

Victor’s voice wasn’t quivering anymore. There was no arguing with that voice, every muscle in Yuuri’s body going rigid and still - even those tight around his chest, freezing his breaths. His ribs felt choked, airless and oxygen starved. Still, Yuuri didn’t move. He couldn’t - that was the voice of a Captain, the voice Yuuri had spent the last five years training himself to obey without missing a beat.

His fingers were numb, but even Yuuri could feel when Victor prised them open, forcing something firmly into his palm. He closed Yuuri’s limb grip around it, squeezing around his fingers.

“Here.”

Yuuri didn’t look - _couldn’t_ look.

He knew exactly what it was that Victor had pressed into his hand, recognising the smooth, cool surface, the perfect size for a palm. It fit well in his grasp. Too well. It made tears well up in Yuuri’s eyes all over again, longing for Victor to just let his hand go and let the knife clatter away, away from both of them.

Yuuri didn’t want to remember what had happened, didn’t want to wonder what was going to happen next. He would give anything…

The look in Victor’s eyes was serious though, unrelenting. A heart-rending blend of anger, and fear, and pain, and absolute misery. Yuuri recognised it well from his time in refugee-ship. Everybody had worn that look.

Victor was more in control of it than most though, fingers tightening around Yuuri’s and lifting them from his lap.

“ _Here.”_

He didn’t stop, not until the blade - still crusted with Yuuri’s dried blood - pressed against the smooth line of his own pale throat.

Yuuri’s eyes bulged in his eye sockets, chills running down his spine.

He had Victor’s life in his hands.

_No._

He wanted to say it. He wanted to shake his head. He wanted to refuse - but he’d already refused Victor enough, triggered something wild in the Captain that could have killed him, and… he was too afraid. He couldn’t speak. He couldn’t move. All he could do was whimper, fingers trembling beneath Victor’s around the dagger handle.

Victor’s gaze didn’t leave his. It bore into Yuuri’s with grim determination, crystal blue ice chipped like the cracks in a frozen lake. Tears watered along his lower lashes, pearly and glittering. With a blink, one splashed down onto Yuuri’s hand, running down his wrist.

It was cold.

Yuuri gasped.

His fingers clenched around the knife in surprise, clinging to something solid. It pressed back into Victor’s hand, deeper into his palm.

And into his throat.

Yuuri wasn’t sure what the noise that bubbled out of this throat was, but it didn’t sound remotely human as a fresh line of crimson stained the knife edge.

Victor winced, eyes pinching shut.

His fingers uncurled around the dagger.

“You see,” he hissed, still leaned carefully into the blade as he slipped his brown jacket from his shoulders… and slid it around Yuuri’s. “I’m yours, Yuuri. I always have been.”

Victor’s eyes opened in watery slits, a drop of red running down into the white neckline of his shirt. He didn’t flinch. He didn’t move. Hands cupping Yuuri’s shoulders, Victor held to him tight, blade still pressed to his neck.

“I...”

A lone tear broke free and curled over Victor’s flushed cheek, the Captain angling his eyes to the ceiling as a gasp pushed past his lips. The rogue tear slid over the curve of his jaw, down his throat. Victor gasped when it hit his cut, Yuuri watching his Adam’s apple bob with absolute fascination, bobbing the blade with it.

Victor’s fingers tightened on Yuuri’s shoulders, pain flashing in his upturned eyes in a bolt of sea green before they dropped back down to Yuuri. His lip was quivering.

Yuuri’s heart skipped a beat.

“Yuuri, I’m _sorry_.”

The words had barely left Victor’s lips before the knife launched across the corridor. It clattered along the floorboards and Victor’s head turned to watch it go half a beat before Yuuri threw himself at him, chest’s colliding hard as air rushed back into Victor’s lungs in one sudden burst. Yuuri gasped too, eyes wide over Victor’s shoulder. His hands clawed for purchase at the back of the Captain’s shirt, clinging to him like his life depended on it and groaning hard when his own hurt throat pressed against Victor’s shirt.

Victor’s own sharp inhale gasped by his ear. He didn’t pull away though - he just pulled Yuuri in closer, arms tight around the cadet’s waist.

Yuuri’s mouth hovered open, but no words came out. He wasn’t sure what to say _. I’m sorry? I love you?_ He wasn’t sure Victor wanted to hear any of it, just glad to feel the thud of Victor’s fast heartbeat against his breast and surprised at how it raced. Surely Victor knew that Yuuri wouldn’t want to hurt him - would _never_ want to even scratch him with his thumbnail - let alone hold a dagger to his neck, an inch away from slitting his throat!

The hard sag of the Captain’s shoulders said otherwise though, groaning into his sigh. It made Yuuri’s blood crawl.

He couldn’t find words - just sounds. Whimpers, moans, gasps that felt like Victor was prying them from between his ribs with barbed fingers they hurt so much to let echo into the little dormitory. His wet eyes buried into Victor’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry, Yuuri,” Victor went on, voice cracking. “I’m so, so sorry. I never meant it. I never meant to hurt you.”

Yuuri just clung to him tighter.

He didn’t trust his voice. His body still hadn’t stopped shaking and he didn’t hold much more hope for his voice, teeth biting down on his quivering lip to hold down his sobs. He didn’t know what was happening. But whatever it was - warm and safe in Victor’s arms - he never wanted it to stop.

“It’s okay,” he finally choked out. “It’s okay, it’s-”

“Victor, what the hell is going-”

Yuuri’s eyes shot open.

He’d forgotten they were in a corridor - forgotten that was, until Christophe Giacometti snapped his door open from down the hall and swung blonde hair and green eyes round the corridor, framed with round glasses that Yuuri had never seen on the second-in-command before. He frowned behind them quickly, drinking in the scene. He paused a lingering moment on the knife.

Then on Phichit.

Suddenly, Yuuri realised exactly what door Phichit had stumbled out of when he’d found him. The stark horror passed between the cadet and the second-in-command was undeniable.

Yuuri blinked up, eyes linking with Phichit’s wide grey ones across the room. His friend was still pressed flush against the wall like someone would shoot him if he dared move a muscle, skin pale and chest unnervingly still. Was he holding his breath?

Guilt speared through Yuuri’s gut. “Oh, um-”

“Chris-”

Both cadets flinched at the sharp tone to Victor’s voice, hardwired to stand at attention whenever they heard it. Yuuri stiffened in Victor’s arms on instinct.

“I need you to take care of Cadet Chulanont for me.”

Christophe’s eyes flittered around the corridor. “Um, okay. But Victor-”

The Captain threw a look over his shoulder and Yuuri could only imagine what it looked like when Christophe flinched, shrinking back a touch. “I’ll explain later,” was all he said, voice clipped and cold like it was through gritted teeth. “Just do it, okay?”

Over Victor’s shoulder, Yuuri watched fear flash in his friend’s eyes. They glossed over like marbles, fighting falling into the mindless shell of a soldier into something that curled his fists at his sides and swallowed hard, spine straightening in resistance. A soldier would just walk off as Victor wanted, obey like he was trained to do. Phichit - Yuuri’s _friend_ \- fought the impulse.

His eyes stayed on Yuuri, glossy and glittering at the same time. He looked absolutely terrified, voice wavering. “Yuuri?”

Yuuri’s heart pulled.

He sucked in a breath, eyes fluttering at how easy his chest opened and how smoothly the oxygen slid down his throat, easy on his wound when it was a slow drag of air rather than mad gulps. His lips curved in a soft smile, relieved. His head dropped down to Victor’s shoulder, gaze still linked with Phichit’s across the back of Victor’s neck.

“It’s fine, Phichit,” he said, smiling. His heart fluttered in his chest when he felt Victor’s heartbeat hammer against his breastplate again. “I’m fine.”

And he was.

Exhausted, but fine. He could breathe, he could speak, he could _think_ … and he had Victor’s arms around him, fingers curled in his hair, holding him close - he was most definitely fine. He was exactly where he wanted to be.

After a beat, Phichit relaxed against the wall, gaze shifting to Christophe. They looked ever so slightly less tense. “Okay,” he finally gulped. “I’ll just, um… go?”

Yuuri just bowed his head deeper into Victor’s shoulder in reply, letting his eyes flutter shut. He didn’t watch Phichit go. He just surrendered to the warmth of Victor’s chest, the strength of his arms, and the shuddering breath that sighed out of Victor’s lungs the moment the door down the hall softly shut to hushed whispers of _‘what was that?’_ and _‘I don’t know’_ , like he’d been holding it in for half his life.

Victor’s shoulders slumped, head dropping onto Yuuri’s shoulder. His cheek rubbed into the crook of Yuuri’s neck, breathing in deep so his chest swelled slow and steady against Yuuri’s.

“My turn.”

Yuuri had barely processed the words before weightlessness washed over him and he gasped, clinging to Victor wherever he could reach. His arms tightened around his shoulders and his fingers clawed in the back of Victor’s shirt, thighs tense around Victor’s waist and heels of his boots digging into the backs of Victor’s legs. Hands gripped firm at his back and under his thigh, clutching him tight to Victor’s front.

He didn’t relax. He couldn’t relax. He stayed tense and balled up tight in Victor’s arms while the Captain nudged open his office door with his foot and kicked it shut with his heel behind them, Makkachin lapping excitedly at his ankles.

The dog didn’t get any further than that though.

One quiet command of ‘ _stay’_ from his master and he sat obediently by the side of Victor’s desk, tongue lolling at Yuuri over Victor’s shoulder as they disappeared into the bedroom.

Yuuri didn’t dare let his mind wander. He forced it to stay blank but he couldn’t fight the racing of his heart or the tension bleeding through his muscles. The bedroom just held so much connotation - none of which Yuuri was ready to face just yet. He was still confused, still a whirlwind of emotion. The hands that held him safe like a child were the same hands that had forced him to draw Victor’s blood, begging for Yuuri to hold him before that, and then before that had tried to kill him.

It had never supposed to be anything like this, he thought in a daze as Victor set him down on the bed, as carefully as if he were a newborn baby. It had supposed to have just been sex, plain and simple. It was never supposed to be so messy.

The way Victor all but collapsed on him on the bed though, scooping him tight in his arms… it was all messy and a part of Yuuri’s heart leapt for it. “Oh my God,” he breathed, air hot down the collar of Yuuri’s thin shirt. “I thought I’d lost you. I was so scared, I thought-”

“Please,” Yuuri’s fingers fisted in the front of Victor’s shirt. “Don’t.”

He didn’t want to think about it. Whatever had happened - whatever it meant - he didn’t want to think about it. He wanted to live in this fantasy world just a little bit longer, lose himself in the bliss of being close to Victor in a way that left him feeling more vulnerable than when he was naked, the gesture more intimate than when they were having sex.

Victor’s cheek stroked over Yuuri’s shoulder - like he was brushing away tears. “I owe you an explanation.”

“No.”

“I do.”

“No.”

“You deserve to know...”

Yuuri didn’t want to let go - but Victor’s hands carefully unwound his arms from around the Captain’s neck and he had no choice, sitting back on his heels on the mattress with his eyes low like a child waiting to be scolded. His face felt hot. He could only imagine how red he must be.

“Yuuri…”

Yuuri flinched when Victor cupped his cheek. His hot skin all but burned at the contact against Victor’s cool palm, flushed in a way that Yuuri couldn’t explain.

He couldn’t meet Victor’s eye - even as the Captain levelled their faces, noses inches apart. He still couldn’t look, peering through his eyelashes at-

“My name isn’t really Nikiforov.”

Yuuri blinked up in shock.

Calm icy blue met him, firm and steady as the untouched surface of water, while gentle and patient… it wasn’t a look he remembered seeing in Victor’s eyes before.

“Well, Victor is,” he went on the moment Yuuri’s lips parted to question him. “But Nikiforov … that’s not my last name. I mean, have you heard of any other Nikiforovs? I … I read it in a book somewhere. I thought it sounded fancy at the time...”

 _What time_ , Yuuri wanted to ask. What book? What name? _Why?_ It was still sinking into his brain, every word chipping bit by bit at his skull until it finally sunk in; the man he’d looked up to - the man he’d given his life up to follow - wasn’t the man he said he was. Victor Nikiforov wasn’t the Captain in front of him. He wasn’t real.

How was that possible?

Questions bubbled on his tongue, but no sound came out. He was almost frightened to lend them voice, not sure he wanted to know the answers.

Before he got a chance though, Victor smirked. “You don’t know where I’m from, do you?” His eyes shone, glittering in a way that covered up something deeper. Yuuri knew. Yuuri had done it for years. “As in, before all this? Before signing up, before I was a soldier ...”

Yuuri just shook his head.

A humourless chuckle whistled through Victor’s lips. “No,” his eyes shifted to the side. “Nobody does.”

_What did he mean?_

Yuuri wasn’t sure if he said it out loud or not. It hardly mattered.

“I never told anybody,” Victor said, stroking a finger down the thin bones on the back of Yuuri’s hand, tracing the pattern of his skin. His eyes followed it, misted in memory. “I just made up a new name for myself and ran. Joined the army and never looked back … just looking over my shoulder, waiting for the day they’d catch me.”

“T-they?”

Victor’s eyes pressed shut. “My father wasn’t exactly best pleased.”

Yuuri wracked his brain.

There wasn’t exactly a public family tree of every member of the military, but there were things people just knew. People that welcomed them back from missions, common family names, rumour… only there was none of that with Victor. He just hadn’t realised it until now.

He couldn’t imagine Victor’s father. He just … couldn’t. Pale hair like Victor? Taller? Broader? Angrier? Victor had to get those crystal fire eyes from somewhere after all and if he hadn’t been happy about Victor leaving home then perhaps his father was where Victor had adopted the expression from. What had he done? What had happened? Yuuri didn’t dare ask - it wasn’t his place to ask.

“You don’t disagree with family like I did. When you do, you have to disappear a little more … _permanently_ than just joining the army.”

Air caught in Yuuri’s throat.

Victor’s head shook. “You don’t just walk away.”

The words sunk in slowly, painfully - like Victor was carving each one into his skin rather than just saying them. Yuuri couldn’t imagine it; he’d never known anything but love from his family.

It wasn’t unheard of though. Something that everybody knew happened within the inner walls and inner sanctum of the wall-cults influence, but something never spoken about. Just like cadets sometimes _disappeared_ \- everybody knew it didn’t stop there. People vanished. Not everybody knew why. Not everybody even knew people that it had happened to, but they knew that it happened. Like a dirty secret, something not even whispered about because if your rumour was right it would put you right in line to be the target of the next mystery.

Only Victor was one of them, escaped … what had he _done?_

“What’s your real name?” Yuuri asked.

It came out like a whisper, quiet and hushed. Yuuri almost didn’t dare ask - and the moment it was out, he wished he hadn’t. It wasn’t his place, it wasn’t his business. It was Victor’s secret, his life…

But he wanted to know. For all they had been through, for all that Yuuri had surrendered to this man … and he didn’t even know his name.

Victor’s mouth just set in a firm line. “It’s safer that you don’t know.”

Yuuri’s skin crawled, hairs on the back of his neck prickling to attention, like they were being watched right in that moment. So Victor was still in danger, he pieced together - enough that he still couldn’t tell Yuuri his real name. Enough that he kept a secret dagger hidden on his person. Enough that his senses were still fine-tuned, ready to save his life at the slightest of red flags even from the depths of slumber…

Yuuri drank all the information in silently, heart beating a fraction faster in his chest. On the outside though, he just nodded.

Victor’s fingers moved away. They pushed up to rake through Victor’s slither of silver bangs, palm to his face, hiding an eye. A nerve twitched in his jaw, exposed eye pressing shut so it scrunched together hard in the corner, Adam’s apple bobbing with his thick swallow. His head dropped forward.

“I wouldn’t blame you, you know.”

It came out so quietly Yuuri wondered if he’d imagined it. Victor’s lips barely moved, his shoulders slumped with defeat and body unnaturally still. His tone was frighteningly low. _Grave._

It made Yuuri hang on his every word.

“You know, if you … if you wanted to stop.”

Yuuri’s heart stopped.

 _Stop…_ Yuuri had figured it would happen at some point in their arrangement - but not because Yuuri _wanted_ it to. He’d always envisioned it would be because Victor got tired of him and moved on or had him _disposed of_ , to protect the secret. He’d never once imagined it would be because Victor would let him walk. He still couldn’t imagine it, willingly cutting out the one thing in his life that made him see a future beyond just dying for humanity’s cause…

He swallowed the lump in his throat, eyes dropping to his knees. “I couldn’t,” he admitted almost as quietly as Victor. “I couldn’t stop… even if I wanted to.”

And he didn’t want to.

It was dangerous, and risky, and Yuuri had all but accepted it would claim his life in one way or another one day … but it made him feel _alive_. It made him feel more than that, it made him feel-

“I love you.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Yuuri caught Victor’s head shoot up. His silver hair whipped back out of his face, shimmering in the daylight beaming through the window.

His own eyes slowly pressed shut, fingers curling tight over his lap. What had he just done?

“Y-you-”

“Yeah, I do,” Yuuri said before his nerve broke, fingernails pressing into the flesh of his palm. If Victor was being honest, he ought to be too. “From the day I first saw you. I… I love you. I still do.”

He wasn’t sure he could stop it even if he wanted to - after all Victor had held a knife to his throat and Yuuri had just pushed it aside, so desperate to cling to the illusion of their affair, to hold onto his fantasy life with the man of his dreams just a little while longer. And he’d still come back. If that didn’t shatter what he felt for Victor, then what would?

It was sick, and twisted, and didn’t make sense no matter how much Yuuri wished it would… but he loved Victor.

There would never be anybody else.

A gentle hand crept up the side of his face, cheek fitting perfectly into the crook of Victor’s palm. It just made everything harder, made Yuuri’s heart jolt in his chest.

He still leaned into the touch anyway. He couldn’t help it - it was Victor.

A sigh passed through his lips, but it didn’t get far. Victor’s mouth slotted carefully over his, lip to lip, covering the outline of Yuuri’s mouth so tenderly and so perfectly it made goose bumps rise on his skin, shivers running down his spine. It was everything and not enough at the same time. A part of Yuuri wanted more; wanted for Victor to kiss him hard and claim him, take what he had to offer.

This kiss wasn’t a conquering triumph at all though - it was a lover’s kiss. It was full of soft sweetness, openness, rawness, taking only what Yuuri was ready to give him and handing it back in return with equal gentleness.

The hand grazed up over his cheek, fingers threading through his hair. Yuuri hummed in satisfaction against Victor’s mouth, pressing just a little harder against his lips, giving more.

His knees parted instinctively when Victor leaned forward, slipping between them.

“You don’t know how much I wanted to hear you say that.”

Victor sighed the words into his mouth and warmth blossomed through Yuuri, uncurling the fists on his thighs to smooth his hands over Victor’s chest. They explored the smooth planes of muscle over his front, the sharp lines of his collarbones, the lean shape his shoulders - and held on tight as he fell back, hips flexing.

Victor fit so well between his thighs, leaning over him as Yuuri darted his tongue out, dirtying the kiss. He wanted more. He wanting Victor flush with him, wanted to feel every inch of him...

It was only then he realised Victor was hard.

Victor froze.

He wasn’t all the way - just over half mast - but Yuuri recognised that hardness in a heartbeat, all too familiar feeling pressed against the crease where his thigh met his hip.

Victor’s mouth peeled away slowly, the silence palpable. “We don’t have to-”

“I want to.”

It surprised Yuuri - how breathless his voice sounded, how hot he suddenly felt in his filthy shirt that was cold with dried blood and sweat, how his skin sparked wherever Victor touched him… and when Victor lifted off enough for Yuuri to see the cut on his throat, dried red on his pearlescent skin, it went straight to his groin. Seeing _his_ mark on Victor - it was more than just the pinch in his heart. It was possessiveness, thick and primal. Who else did Victor let mark him like that?

Nobody.

Only Yuuri.

Yuuri’s hips rolled up at the thought, shirt slipping over his skin to reveal a teasing slither of pale skin over his hip bone. He felt as much as he saw Victor’s eyes dip to it, breath ragged.

“Oh, _Yuuri_.”

Victor ran his thumb pad along the line of Yuuri’s belt, grazing ever so softly over his skin like he was marvelling over every detail, voice light with awe. It made Yuuri’s heart flutter, lifting his hips up to Victor’s touch.

He pulled at Victor’s shoulder, wanting him to kiss him again, lips parted and chasing up for Victor’s. Victor just smirked above him, eyes sparkling. He didn’t move an inch.

Until he slipped lower between Yuuri’s knees and his breath ghosted over the exposed skin of the cadet’s hip bone.

Yuuri held his breath.

Victor’s lips grazed over his skin, so gently it made Yuuri gasp with tantalising sensation. “I’m going to show you just-” _kiss,_ “-how much-” _kiss, “-_ you mean to me ...”

Hands followed his lips, moving up from cupping Yuuri’s hips up to his waist, slipping underneath his shirt. They slowly dragged the material up, Victor’s mouth carving a leisurely path up from the _V_ of Yuuri’s hip bones to the soft planes of his stomach.

His muscles clenched instinctively when Victor kissed under his belly button, over where Yuuri knew blue and purple stretch marks mapped feather light over his skin. Knowing Victor was seeing them - up close and personal - pressing a kiss to every branch of delicate lines carving through the still-soft pouch of his stomach ... heat flushed over his cheeks, Yuuri covering his burning face with his hands. He groaned into his fingers.

Victor froze, tip of his nose tickling Yuuri’s belly.

“Are you…” the tip of his tongue nipped at Yuuri’s skin as it darted out to wet Victor’s dry lips. “Is this okay?”

“W-what?”

It took a moment for Victor’s words to make sense in Yuuri’s brain, all but a puddle at the top of his spine by now. He peeked out between his fingers at Victor, sparkling blue gazing up at him from between his thighs. _How could this ever be anything but okay_ , Yuuri thought to himself, more breathless than he’d care to admit.

“ _Oh,”_ it finally clicked. “Yes, it’s okay. I-I’m fine. I just, um, I- I thought...”

_What did he think?_

How good Victor’s lips felt? How careful his hands felt? How glorious his firm body felt against his? Yuuri struggled to think of how to translate that into words, brain cells stunned into dumbness. The closest he could get was curling his lips in a smile, tipping his head back and scrunching his eyes shut.

“Oh my God,” he laughed through his fingers, breathless and light.

He felt Victor straighten up off him a fraction, feeling the tension in the Captain’s fingers and the weight of his frown.

Yuuri’s hands bolted down to Victor’s shoulders, as if he could hold him from pulling away any further. His skin felt cold without Victor’s warmth leaning over him, heart skipping a beat in panic and laughter dying in his throat. Yuuri guessed that laughing during sex wasn’t normal, shocked brown eyes meeting Victor’s intense gaze.

He was pretty sure that if his face got any hotter it would burst into flames, heartbeat knocking up behind his rib cage. “S-sorry, it’s just…”

He ran out of words.

How could he possibly explain it? He wasn’t sure how, beyond the mad, happy thump of his heart behind his breastplate - and that didn’t translate so smoothly into sentences!

“I just …” he tried again, looking anywhere else but at Victor. “I just can’t believe this is real.”

It sounded lame even to his own ears, any self-respect he had left right out of the window the moment those words slipped his mouth. It was pathetic. Pathetic and embarrassing. Yuuri wished he could just sink into the sheets and disappear, feeling the air lighten, the haze of lustful urgency quickly dissipating.

He’d done it – he’d killed the mood. Overwhelmed and breathless with disbelief that all this was _real,_ Yuuri had killed the mood. His own arousal waned in horror, like a bucket of cold water had been tossed over him.

Victor just laughed.

“Do you want me to pinch you?” he said, smiling against Yuuri’s skin.

Yuuri’s breath caught.

“I want you to fuck me.”

He heard the words like somebody else had said them – only there was nobody else, and Victor’s grin slapped off his face in a heartbeat.

Yuuri didn’t know what had possessed him.

He didn’t take it back though.

“Yuuri-”

“Please?” Yuuri cut off before Victor could say what he knew he inevitably would. “I want you. And I know you … _have_ before.”

He wasn’t naive. He knew he wasn’t the first cadet that Victor had fooled around with, the first man, the first love - he wasn’t the first anything. And he wouldn’t be the last. He was just the lucky one to hold the sparkle of Victor’s eye in that particular moment, as fleeting as it might be. Victor had had lovers before him and would again after their affair was over. He knew love. He knew lust. He knew both, tangled together until the lines blurred and one melded into the other so seamlessly Yuuri could only dream about it.

Yuuri didn’t know anything - but if he was going to sell his soul and the secrets of his body, there was only one person he wanted to share them with.

_Victor._

Yuuri didn’t regret anything. He loved Victor. He _wanted_ Victor. And he wanted Victor to have everything of him, let the Captain consume him with lust, and love, and attention until Yuuri was ruined for anyone else. He already was! He just wanted more. He always wanted more. When it came to Victor, there was never enough. He was never going to be satisfied until Victor just couldn’t take his eyes off him, and even then some.

But Victor did take his eyes off him.

They darkened just a heartbeat before they flickered away the Captain’s lips thinning and silver bangs falling over one side of his face. He made no move to tuck them away, hiding behind the silky strands.

Yuuri’s heart sank.

“I don’t-” Victor bit his tongue, choosing his words particularly slow and carefully. “I don’t want to take advantage of you.”

Yuuri’s mouth hovered open. It was sweet - he knew it was sweet of Victor … but it wasn’t what he wanted. “I want to be close to you.”

It burned beneath his skin, hot and simmering. An every constant desire for the man settled between his thighs, leaning over him with his delectable mouth on his skin - Yuuri wanted everything. He couldn’t help it. And he could feel Victor wanted it too, could feel the Captain’s erection firm against his own…

Victor pushed off him, sitting back on his heels and running a hand through his hair. Yuuri propped himself up on his elbows, heart in his mouth.

“Yuuri, I-”

Victor’s eyes were pressed shut, eyebrows pinching together tight in the corners like he was in pain and face tipped up to the ceiling. His eyes shifted behind his eyelids, thinking.

“I just-”

Victor bit his lip again. He pulled in a deep breath.

Hot tears just stung behind Yuuri’s eyes, something in his chest jolting painfully. He could barely look at Victor without feeling like a hot poker was jabbed in his gut, making an absolute mess of his insides.  

_No._

Victor was saying no.

Of course, he was. Yuuri did his best not to sniffle with his next sharp breath of oxygen, eyes falling to the hem of Victor’s jacket beside his hip and focussing on a stray thread in the seam instead, analysing it with all his might. Of course, Victor didn’t want to sleep with him, but Yuuri had still asked. And it still hurt, even if he should have known it was coming. He couldn’t help it, he just-

“Okay.”

Yuuri’s eyes bolted up.

Victor’s stared down at him with a firm clarity, crystal blue eyes all but see-through like Yuuri might be able to see his soul behind them, the truth behind his words etched on his heart. The cadet pushed himself up onto his knees as if he could, level with Victor.

That one word echoed in his brain - _okay._ Not _‘yes’_ . Not eager, or keen, or excited, or breathless, just… _okay._

 _Okay_ was enough.

Yuuri tipped his head forward and kissed Victor before he could think his way out of his, letting his eyes close and his body lean into Victor’s. Yuuri would run with _okay_ until the day he died.

His heart hummed happily in his chest when he felt Victor’s hands settle firmly on his waist, thumbs grazing up the hem of his ruffled shirt as he kissed back. It was slow. It was slow, and soft, and tender … and Yuuri sighed into it as he reached for the hem of Victor’s shirt too, still half tucked into his belt. He pulled it free as carefully as if it were made of wet tissue. He couldn’t resist touching, feeling Victor’s skin ripple with shivers as his fingers explored the firm stretch of the Captain’s toned lower stomach.

Victor gave one hard shudder and pulled his mouth away, forehead dropping down to Yuuri’s shoulder. “ _God_ , Yuuri,” he sighed. “What are you doing to me?”

Hands smoothed up the back of Yuuri’s shirt, palms warm against his shock-chilled skin. Yuuri gasped at the simple pleasure of it, spine arching. His mouth hung open in a silent gasp. What was he doing to Victor? His blood sparked alight, boiling in his veins. What was Victor doing to _him_?

His fingers tangled in the short hairs at the back of Victor’s head and tugged, tilting the Captain’s head up and claiming his mouth the moment it was in reach. Victor gasped, grip tightening at the small of Yuuri’s back. Yuuri just hummed into it. His initial desperation groaned in contentment the moment their lips touched, a hard mash of mouths that simmered into something smoother, less urgent. They kissed slow; lips moving lazily, and tongues venturing out almost shyly to tangle with the others, like it  was new, like it was their first time.

Victor’s hands caressed a path up Yuuri’s torso the whole time they kissed, dragging his shirt up with it. They broke apart for barely a second to pull it over Yuuri’s head.

Then his hands dropped to Yuuri’s belt, thumbing over the metal.

Both of them paused.

Neither moved back in for a kiss, holding back just those precious few inches to hold the other’s eye, reading their expression every millisecond of the way. Yuuri could see every flicker of uncertainty in Victor’s eyes and Victor could see even fleck of pleading in his, wanting this, wanting more. Victor undid the belt with slow, deliberate touches, drinking in every inch of Yuuri’s expression as he slid it free from the loops.

There was no hesitation in Yuuri’s eyes, no regret. He just bit his lip as he held Victor’s gaze, letting Victor’s hands guide him, tipping him back carefully on the mattress.

Victor kissed each ankle as he unlaced Yuuri’s boots and peeled off his socks, drawing a breathless giggle from Yuuri that damned near choked the blood from his heart with how _adorable_ it was. His heart was already racing a mile a minute, every touch driving him higher. He wasn’t sure he would survive the night at this rate, but what a way to go...

The trousers slid sinfully smooth over Yuuri’s legs, material almost sighing as it moved over his skin. Yuuri lifted his hips, helping.

When Yuuri was left in nothing but his boxer briefs, Victor couldn’t hold himself back anymore - he leaned over and kissed him, all tongue and parted lips, kiss all soul searching and desperate while he rummaged blindly at the bedside table. Smooth skin glided over his free hand, getting handfuls of creamy thighs, soft pinches of flesh at Yuuri’s waist, the muscular curve of his ass through the last thin layer of clothing holding him from being fully exposed ... Yuuri felt the bounce in the mattress as Victor found what he was looking for in the drawer and tossed the bottle down beside him, cupping his cheek and deepening the kiss.

 _They were really doing this,_ Yuuri thought in breathless wonder, chest clenching hard as he kissed Victor back, super sensitive to every touch the Captain gave him. The briefs felt heavy around his hips, material weighty against his skin. He wanted them off, wanted Victor to have everything-

Victor pulled back as his fingers danced around the waistband of Yuuri’s briefs, touch light and teasing. His eyes dampened, sobering. They _asked._

Yuuri’s breath caught.

He couldn’t nod fast enough.

Their noses brushed, warmth spreading from that simple touch as they held each other’s gaze. Careful. Intimate. Every spark of emotion flitted through their eyes, exposed to the other as Victor slowly peeled away the last layer holding Yuuri back from him. Yuuri gasped as the air hit his bare hip, attune to every sensation that washed over his skin.

Victor paused.

“Are you sure?” he asked, palm warm against Yuuri’s bare hip, fingers soft.

Not just the underwear this time, Yuuri knew. Not just the nakedness and the exposure, but for what he’d asked for. What he’d wanted. If he still wanted it. Because once they crossed that line, they could never go back.

Yuuri hadn’t expected this. He hadn’t expected for Victor to be so careful with him, for him to have that flicker of uncertainty still chipping his gaze like he was afraid of going too far, of hurting Yuuri. It made his heart ache in his chest all the more, soul singing in delight. It made him fall in love with Victor even more with every passing second, wanting to surrender everything he had to the man holding him like he was the most precious thing in the universe.

He didn’t answer with words - Yuuri just tipped his face up and brushed his lips over Victor’s in consent, the Captain pressing back in a featherlight touch. Yuuri had never been surer of anything in his life.

He moaned into Victor’s mouth when the first lubed up finger teased at his rim, stroking over the tight ring of muscle between his legs. Gentle. Slow. Careful. Victor took his time, leisurely walking his fingertip over Yuuri’s sensitive hole until he felt the cadet start to relax in his arms, kissing him so tenderly it made Yuuri whimper.

Yuuri’s head tipped back when Victor’s finger pushed inside him, willing his body to relax. It was easier said than done though; wound up from a sleepless night, a restless mind and a gruelling run at the break of dawn - but Yuuri had never wanted anything more.

He wanted Victor to make him forget everything. To drown in the sensation of Victor’s touch, his warmth, the aquamarine blue of his eyes, and the lingering scent of sweat and blood that clung to his skin. Yuuri wanted to let Victor take him. Consume him. Smother him in attention so it was all that Yuuri knew.

His legs parted further of their own accord as Victor’s finger moved, pumping slowly in and out of him with careful precision. His spare hand cupped Yuuri’s cheek, soft and gentle.

Yuuri reached up and looped an arm around Victor’s neck, pulling him down for a kiss as a second finger nudged its way inside him. His body opened up to it, stretching tight around the intrusion. Yuuri gasped at the pull in his muscles, swallowed by Victor’s firm, careful lips, the Captain breathing in deep and eyes pinching shut like it was just as intense for him as it was for Yuuri. His body was pressed flush against Yuuri’s, groaning with him as his fingers scissored inside, stretching him. They breathed into each other’s mouths, hot and heavy.

Victor’s fingers pulled out. Yuuri had barely opened his eyes in confusion before Victor was lifting him up by his behind, pulling him into his lap as he sat back on his heels. His fingers quickly found their way back inside Yuuri, air punching out of Yuuri’s lungs at the sensation - it was deeper this way. His head tipped back with a loud moan, his hips rolling into Victor’s hand.

He pressed against Victor - against the erection straining in his trousers, a lot harder than Yuuri remembered it before. Victor ground back, fingers tightening on Yuuri’s hip.

“Oh fuck, Yuuri…”

Victor’s face dipped into Yuuri’s exposed collar bone, hot breath fanning over his skin and drawing goosebumps to the surface.

Every inch of Yuuri’s skin was alive to Victor’s touch, hips rolling in time with each lazy thrust of his fingers, body open and willing for him. His blood sang, jolt of electricity passing through him every time his cock brushed over Victor’s in just that right way that had him gasping, pushing back for more of Victor’s fingers inside him. He wanted more. He wanted everything.

Yuuri pulled back just enough for his hand to find Victor’s cheek and guide his head up again, blues eyes misty and clouded with arousal. Victor looked blissfully helpless, body relaxed and mouth hanging open, jaw slack and heartbeat strong behind his breast. It was the most beautiful thing in the world, Yuuri thought, air sighing out of his lungs as he committed the image to memory.

He smoothed his hands either side of Victor’s face and leaned in for a long, lingering kiss, the scratch of Victor’s shirt against his exposed nipples making him gasp. It reminded him - “You’re wearing too much.”

He gave one last nibble on Victor’s lower lip before he pulled away, heart skipping a beat at the way Victor’s chased his mouth as he did, breaths heavier than before. His eyes stayed shut for a lingering breathless moment, mouth hanging open from Yuuri’s teasing kisses. He looked _wrecked._ It suited him. Yuuri stroked his fingers over Victor’s face, brushing his bangs from his flushed face, colour high on his cheekbones. He pressed one last chaste kiss to Victor’s forehead before his fingers moved lower.

Victor trembled when Yuuri’s touch roamed over his jaw, delicate and soft, just a whispering grace over his skin. Goosebumps followed it. They raised down line of his throat and the arch of his collarbones, skin glowing pink and warm under Yuuri’s fingertips.

He didn’t stop - not until the collar of Victor’s shirt stopped him, fingers lingering over the starting swell of Victor’s pectoral muscle.  

Yuuri’s eyes flickered up to Victor’s face, drinking in his expression.

He wasn’t sure why he didn’t look more like Victor. Victor who shuddered under every stroke of Yuuri’s fingers, leaned into every breath and every kiss like it was going to be his last, who looked helpless and endearing like taking Yuuri apart had stripped his soul… Yuuri didn’t feel that. Yuuri felt strong and calm. His heart beat steady, eyes hooded with simmering want, everything he wanted laid out before him ready for the taking.

He thumbed open the top button of Victor’s shirt, watching his face all the way. Victor’s eyebrows pressed together, quiet noise leaving his lips.

It was so innocent. Warmth radiated off of Victor’s cheeks like it was the first time he was being touched - it was the first time Yuuri had touched him with such confidence, Yuuri conceded, with such control. He peeled apart one button after the other, drawing a line down Victor’s chest and exposing more pale skin to the cool air, watching the way Victor drew in a sharp breath every time, fingers twitching inside of him.

It was hardly the Captain he knew. It was barely even the Victor he knew. Had anybody ever seen him like this? He looked so open, ready to let Yuuri do whatever he wanted, relaxed and wonderfully desperate at the same time. He’d surrendered everything, just like Yuuri had wanted…

Yuuri reached back and pulled Victor’s fingers carefully out of him, head falling forward onto Victor’s shoulder and groaning softly. Leaning into his neck, he scooped Victor’s shirt over his shoulders, letting it slide freely down his arms.

Victor’s breath hitched as Yuuri peeled it off him, hands warm and soft over his shoulders like Victor was made of glass, like he didn’t want to disturb a single hair on his body. Nobody had ever been so careful with him before, Victor thought. It punched the air out of his lungs, eyelashes fluttering at the burn behind his eyes.

It felt more intimate letting Yuuri undressing him rather than doing it himself, like he was handing a piece of his soul to the cadet along with his control.

It was oddly liberating.

Yuuri leaned lower and pressed a kiss over Victor’s heart as he moved to Victor’s belt and Victor swore he nearly had a heart attack, tear leaking down his face. It wasn’t what he’d expected of himself, surprised. Yuuri really was wringing everything that he had out of him.

He couldn’t do anything to control his body as Yuuri shimmied his trousers down his hips for him, desperately hoping that he didn’t come in his pants before Yuuri was even done. He wanted this to last, wanted it to never end… so why was he so helpless? He moved only when Yuuri motioned him to, guiding him to sit up on his knees to peel off his underwear until they were scrunched around his knees with his trousers. He shuddered as the air hit his cock, hard and aching to be touched.

His blood was too hot beneath his skin, air not soothing the burn in his lungs one bit. It shuddered from his lips, body trembling. For touch. For Yuuri.

He _needed_ Yuuri.

His eyes peeled open to pools of deep chestnut brown waiting for him - his own expression mirrored back at him. Nervousness and excitement clashed together in Yuuri’s round eyes. Firm and strong, yet glittering with tenderness. _God, he was perfect_ , Victor thought, breathless even in his own head. _So, so perfect._

He groaned hard when Yuuri wrapped hand around his length, starting at how much it sounded like a sob. He never thought it would feel like this, with anyone. It was overwhelming.

His vision blurred, thick with emotion and pure arousal, brain cells frying as Yuuri moved his hand, pumping him smooth and slow. The pleasure drew out, unfurling warm and comforting in the pit of his belly. It sharpened his senses, need growing hot and unignorable, tightening behind his balls and tensing his muscles.

Red flags rose, alarm bells ringing in the back of Victor’s mind. He was _too_ tense, blood _too_ hot … he was going to come. His hand covered Yuuri’s stilling his movements.

Victor wanted it too. He wanted to connect with Yuuri in every possible way, be closer than skin deep with him until they couldn’t tell apart one from the other, souls mashing together. He couldn’t remember ever wanting anything so badly...

“Turn around,” he said, voice thick.

Yuuri’s eyes flashed wide.

He gave one last squeeze around Victor’s cock before he slowly peeled himself off of Victor’s lap, eyelashes fluttering as he held Victor’s eye as long as he could.

It made Victor’s heart skip a beat at the sight, all shy and demure … while this was the same man that had undone him with frightening clarity just a few moments ago, that had touched him without so much of a hitch of breath. Yuuri Katsuki may not be pure, but he certainly wasn’t innocent.

Yuuri moved slowly over the bed while Victor slicked himself up, watching with hungry hooded eyes. He was breathing heavier now, nerves getting the better of him.

Then Victor settled behind him with a hand firm on his hip; all warmth and body heat, arms wrapping around him while Victor pressed sweet kisses to the back of his shoulder blades, and his breath caught entirely. His knees sank into the mattress, fingers curling into the sheets in anticipation. Something hard nudged between his thighs, a knee guiding his legs wider apart.

Naked and ready, Yuuri’s heart skipped a beat. He felt fragile, exposed like a shorn off nerve, shivers running down his spine that even the press of Victor’s body over his hips couldn’t soothe. His eyes pressed shut, waiting.

Fingers slid over the back of his hand, threading carefully through his. They squeezed - Yuuri squeezed back.

“I’m ready,” he rasped.

They both groaned when the blunt head of Victor’s cock pressed into Yuuri, slide sinfully smooth and blissfully tight. Victor’s head dropped forward, forehead against Yuuri’s shoulders.

Hearts beat too fast. Their bodies felt too hot beneath their skin. Yuuri could feel every rasp of Victor’s breath against the back of shoulder blades, already feeling so stretched and full but he could feel Victor still sinking into him, inch by gentle inch. It burned - but didn’t hurt. It didn’t feel like Yuuri expected. His mouth hung open in a silent groan, not even sure what sounds ended up coming out of it.

He focussed on the tickle of Victor’s bangs on his skin as the burn grew hotter and he hissed when Victor slipped in a little too quickly, his spare hand jerking back to touch at Victor’s hip. Just a touch - that was all he needed for Victor to pause inside him and wait, breaths hot and heavy behind him, body poised above Yuuri.

He didn’t move again until Yuuri’s hand moved away and Yuuri’s head rolled into the pillow in consent, sliding in that last delicious inch.

Yuuri groaned, sound melting into Victor’s.

His body arched into the sensation, pressing back against Victor’s as they paused, fully connected; back to chest, hands laced together and Victor buried deep inside Yuuri. It was as close as they could be, pressed together tight. It was everything Yuuri wanted. He could feel his heartbeat in his throat, pulse throbbing in his dick as Victor held on to him tight, hips twitching to move. Yuuri breathed into the stretch, tipping his head back.

It pulled at his cut. The pain cut sharply through his arousal and his eyes snapped open, filled with the dull wood of Victor’s bed frame and the drab colour of his wall, blank and undistracting. It only made the press of Victor’s hips feel all that deeper inside him.

Yuuri’s hand clutched tight at Victor’s, his knuckles white.

“Victor…”

Victor wasn’t moving. He was stock still behind Yuuri, his hips pressed flush against the cadet, breathing hard. Somehow it only made the heat under Yuuri’s skin itch all the more.

“Victor, please…”

Yuuri pushed back against Victor and his eyes fluttered at the feeling of Victor moving inside him, pressed so tight he could feel every twitch and every throb of his cock. He wondered what it was like for Victor. The Captain wasn’t saying anything, just catching his breath, heart racing against Yuuri’s back. Was that good or bad? Yuuri couldn’t tell.

He felt exposed. He felt delicate and fragile, soft in Victor’s arms like he might snap in two if the Captain was so inclined. He clenched his muscles around Victor, testing, the groan that answered him against his shoulder blades going straight to his cock.

The itch burned hotter, nagging under his skin. He reached back to Victor’s hand at his hip. “Victor, please …. move.”

They didn’t fuck.

All the while, Yuuri had thought of what he and Victor did as sex, fucking - blunt, rude words with nothing but animalistic need behind it, ruthless and ragged, instincts laid bare.

This was not fucking.

It felt almost like making love as Victor sighed over Yurui’s skin and his hips rolled, slow and careful, pressing into Yuuri tenderly like he might break him. It felt deep - like Victor was climbing into his very soul as his ground his cock into Yuuri, a slow drag of push and pull that set Yuuri’s skin alight with electricity and the heat pooling in his gut. Warmth wrapped around him, soft and comforting, thighs trembling.

Victor worked him open with gentle thrusts, holding his hand and holding his heart with each roll of his hips. It wasn’t anything like Yuuri imagined it would be.

It was better.

Every touch was smooth and sweet, slow and careful, Yuuri sighing into the stretch and groaning when his body loosened up to accept more of Victor. He pushed back when he did, wanting more. _Craving_ more. The itch was back, gnawing beneath his skin for something Yuuri didn’t know how to satisfy. He just wanted more. More friction, more Victor - more everything, anything it took to further entwine their hearts and bodies. Yuuri wanted to stay in Victor’s bed forever, reality be damned.

“Oh God, Yuuri…”

Victor gasped hard into Yuuri’s skin when Yuuri clamped down around his cock, muscles flexing testingly, sending shoots of pleasure through them that had their interlocked fingers shaking.

Victor rocked into Yuuri a little more urgently, hand firm on his hip.

His breaths grew sharper, ragged with each inhale and trembling against Yuuri’s shoulder blades with each exhale, every odd one punctuated with a moan or a whine that sounded so fragile and needy it pulled at Yuuri’s heartstrings and had him squeezing at Victor’s hand. He felt the race of Victor’s heartbeat behind his ribs, hammering along with his own.

“Yuuri…”

Victor’s fingers curled tighter around his, fingers digging into the soft flesh at his hip. They guided him back, rolling against Victor in a way that had Yuuri biting down on his lip for the pleasure and his knees all but melting beneath him.

He wasn’t sure how much more he could take, what he would do when the spark beneath his skin fanned into a full blown blaze ...

“I want to kiss you,” tumbled from his lips, breathless and begging.

He needed it - just as much as he needed Victor’s hips to keep knocking into his at that delicious, deep pace. He wanted that pressure - small and acute - to hold him lucid, to keep his mind focussed on how Victor made him feel, to remind himself in the height of his pleasure that it was Victor, always Victor that he wanted to feel this way with.

The broken groan against his back told him Victor wanted it too, pushing his cock even deeper into Yuuri and pulsing hard. Yuuri’s face fell forward into the sheets, blinded by pleasure.

He whined when Victor pulled out of him. The withdrawal was slow and smooth, but it still punched cold down his spine when Victor moved back and left him feeling empty, body clenching around nothing. He pushed back on his knees, searching for contact, too frustrated to complain beyond anything but brute noises and whimpers. He was drowning in too much sensation that wasn’t Victor’s touch on his skin.

Yuuri’s heartbeat pulsed hot and heavy under his skin, that blissful numbness like when he was first waking up in the morning tinged with adrenalin that made him restless and needy. It robbed him of his senses, nerves shorn short and sharp, hinging on desperate.

So when Victor’s arm wound around his chest - fingers walking slow and smooth over his skin - Yuuri all but sobbed.

He was putty in Victor’s hands.

Loving arms cradled him, delicate touches grazed over his skin, firm fingers handling his hips and shoulders, twisting him, turning him - and Yuuri gasped, when Victor hitched him up into his lap, face to face and chest to chest. Greedy hands gathered him close, cupping the underside of his thighs. He straddled Victor, their hard cocks linking like a live wire between them.

It was even more intimate than Yuuri had imagined, eyes fluttering shut as he felt Victor close enough to be able to see into his soul. His heart flitted - and felt Victor’s do the same as he settled a hand over the Captain’s chest.

They were so close; sharing the same warmth, the same heartbeat, the same breath … and as Yuuri shifted his weight ever so slightly, they shared the same body too.

Victor groaned hard as he slipped back inside Yuuri, body warm and welcoming, slick and gloriously open for him. Every cell of skin that touched with Yuuri’s felt deliciously raw, vulnerable and fragile, exposed in a way he’d never allowed himself to be with anybody else. He wanted it with Yuuri though. He wanted the cadet to have everything of him, to lose himself in the wonder of Yuuri Katsuki and never resurface.

Their mouths were inches apart, not kissing - not even trying to. Just sharing air, tasting the other through the short gap and knowing what was just a tilt of the head away, tantalisingly out of reach. It was sublime. Teasing and exhilaration, driving Victor to flex his hips up to Yuuri for more.

His hands settled on Yuuri’s splayed thighs, feeling the strong muscles tense and flex as he rocked back into Victor, riding him with slow, deep thrusts.

Victor wasn’t sure how much of it he could take. “Yuuri.”

He could feel himself getting close, just from being inside Yuuri. He was so tight, stretched around him so perfectly like he was made for Victor, hot and wet, and when he tilted his hips at a slightly different angle that tipped his head back and drew a glorious cry from his lips, Victor just couldn’t-

He came with a shout.

Heat kissed over his skin in deep rolling waves that went bone deep, eyes shooting wide and heartbeat pulsing in his fingertips. He spilled his soul inside Yuuri, surrendering to it all too willingly.

Yuuri looked beautiful above him. Red cheeked and eyelids delicately closed, eyebrows pinched together in the sweetest of expressions that Victor recognised easily - sitting on the crest of release like what flowed through his own veins, hot, and comforting, and delicious all at the same time, senses fried. He wanted Yuuri to feel it too, to see what he would look like when he came...

More wetness spilled over Victor’s cock inside Yuuri at the thought, making the slide all the more slick as Yuuri rode him through his orgasm, sinfully smooth and tight. Victor couldn’t do much more than gasp through it and hang on. Every muscle in his body went tight with release, fringes of his skin numb with bliss and hips rolling into the sensation.

He was helpless as a careful hand tipped his chin, angling his face up. Warm, gentle lips covered his. Victor moaned into them, hips bucking of their own accord.

They hit home.

Yuuri went taut around him, fingers digging hard into his shoulders enough to leave bruises and coming in thick ropes between them, painting their stomachs white. Victor gasped at the sensation, softening cock giving one last fighting twitch inside Yuuri.

 

* * *

 

“So all this time, you thought I was going to dismiss you?”

Warmth bubbled inside Victor’s chest as he lay with his head on Yuuri’s chest, finger tracing lazy patterns over his right pectoral muscle and listening to the steady thump of his heartbeat, comforted by the sound that made him happier than he’d felt… well, ever. A soft smile curved his lips, muscles still loose and relaxed from orgasm.

Yuuri’s arm tightened around his shoulders, groan rumbling behind his ribcage in a way that made Victor giggle.

“Yeah,” Yuuri said above him, running a hand over his face. Victor could hear how embarrassed he was, how red his face must be. “I didn’t think… I mean, it couldn’t be real, could it? You’re you, and I’m-”

“Perfect.”

Victor didn’t hesitate to say it. His blinked up to Yuuri with a butter-soft smile, eyes glittering with adoration and something stronger, something that clenched his heart tight to acknowledge.

Something fluttered in his chest when he heard Yuuri’s breath catch above him and caught the flash of vulnerability dart through Yuuri’s eyes, glittering down at him.

It only made Victor more certain, smile sobering.

“I think you’re perfect.”

He said every word slow and deliberate, so Yuuri couldn’t miss a single syllable, couldn’t misinterpret it in any way like Victor knew his delicate mind would be fighting to do behind those glowing eyes. It was just Yuuri. Sweet little Yuuri; who could kill a Titan from horseback but couldn’t take a compliment; who could fuck Victor to within an inch of his life but then cry because he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to sleep in Victor’s bed after. Victor wasn’t sure Yuuri would ever be able to see himself the way Victor saw him - all strength, and beautiful, and soft all at the same time, everything Victor had ever wanted - but he would happily spend the rest of his life trying.

He flashed one last smile up at Yuuri before he tightened his arms around the cadet and fluttered his eyes shut, nuzzling his cheek happily into his chest. His heartbeat was still strong in his ear, beating a touch faster. Victor savoured the moment, wishing it would never end.

They could both be dead tomorrow after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right, notice time. 
> 
> I am going to be taking a hiatus from the internet for a while. Specifically for forty days. Decided to give up social media for Lent, so… since this will be the last update before Lent starts on the 14th Feb, giving y’all the heads up now. Have an excellent month and a half and good luck with Lent for those that celebrate (not sure what other events/holidays might be observed over that time period for other cultures/religions, but good luck on those too whatever they are!). I’ll still be writing over this time but no AO3, no Tumblr, Facebook, Insta, Snapchat, Twitter, Pinterest, YouTube … *sigh* bye bye distractions. Will reply to messages and such upon my return.
> 
> So I’ll be back on the 30th March (hopefully with some new content for you guys!)
> 
> Keep tabs on my tumblr [here](https://justrae2010.tumblr.com/) and check out my other YOI fics [here](http://archiveofourown.org/users/justrae2010/pseuds/justrae2010)
> 
> Please drop a comment before you go !
> 
> Hope you liked it!


	9. Chapter 9

Titan blood burned hot on Victor’s cheek, scorching and sharp. Victor focussed on the pain, ignoring the sting of tears in his eyes as he rode hard over the Titan country terrain, gaze fixed on the walls ahead. They looked a lifetime out of reach. They’d only been riding for a few hours when they’d got the message to turn back - how had everything gone so wrong in just a few hours?!

The messenger rode a few horses behind him, the thunder of hooves all blurring into one in his ears. Victor just gripped his reins tight, leaning low over his horse. It was the fastest of his squad, a gap quickly forming between him and the rest of his team.

Victor didn’t care.

He just rode as fast as he could back to the walls, back to Trost - back to Yuuri. For once, Yuuri might actually have been safer out there in the wilderness with him.

Instead he was back _there_.

Or would be soon.

 _Trost is under attack_ , the messenger had told him when he’d finally caught up with them, hours behind, and precious time slipping through their fingers. They might already be too late. _The_ _gate is destroyed. Titans have entered the city. All soldiers to report for duty immediately._

Victor kicked his horse on, urging it on faster. He ignored the sting of the reins rubbing against the skin of his hands, burning with the friction. Yuuri was back there. Yuuri would be called to fight. Yuuri would be put right on the front lines as a young cadet, practically nothing more than Titan fodder, slowing their advances with their sacrifice more than slaying anything. Victor was no fool. He knew it would be a battle precious few would return from. He just cared about one though, just Yuuri.

He’d thought he’d been so clever, convincing Yuuri to take his leave to coincide with their next mission outside the walls, letting it slide as the approving Captain…

Instead, he might have just killed the man he loved.

Victor kicked his horse on desperately, blinking through the tears burning hot behind his terrified eyes. The memory of Yuuri’s glittering russet brown gaze flashed in his mind - Victor just prayed he wouldn’t be too late to save it.

 

* * *

 

Yuuri scrubbed happily at the dishes in his parent’s sink, relishing the soft clatter of clearing up after breakfast and his family’s chit-chat behind him. He smiled softly to himself - he hadn’t realised how much he’d missed it.

He liked the peace.

The village was quieter than he remembered. Older. Slower. Stiller. There was a tranquillity to it that almost felt unreal, like he was still stuck in a dream.

He guessed that was what years living in a rough army camp did to a person...

“So,” his sister droned from the dining table, arm slung lazily over the back of the chair. “You _actually_ met a guy?”

She sounded unimpressed.

“That’s not like you.”

 _Yeah_ … Yuuri would never have believed it of himself either...

He blushed hard over the sink, fingers slipping in the soapy water and dropping the plate he’d been holding. It hit the bottom with a dull thud.

He hadn’t been able to stay quiet for the interrogation. His parents and sister had noticed it from the moment he’d stepped through the door - a _glow_ , they’d called it. Something different about him, something he hadn’t even realised was there. He guessed he noticed it now that it had been pointed out, but not in the way he’d thought. To him, it wasn’t a glow - it felt more like a hole in his heart, like a chain around his neck.

He _missed_ Victor.

A gentle hand just steadied at his arm, distracting him.

“Just ignore her, Yuuri,” his mother smiled beside him, eyes soft and kind. They helped ease the tension riling up his shoulders, kicking his heart rate up higher and higher - “So...” she nudged playfully at his arm. “What’s he like?”

Yuuri’s fingers slipped again.

He tried to pick up his smile before anybody noticed. “He’s, um …” his eyes rolled up in thought, remembering the pressure of his lips as Victor had kissed him goodbye and that beautiful smile that had waved him off.... it brought one of his own back to Yuuri’s lips, heart swelling in his chest. “He’s amazing,” he finally gasped. “Really. He’s just… he’s just perfect.”

He didn’t know what else to say. He couldn’t tell them about how the moonlight danced off Victor’s silver hair like the most stunning starlight, or how his eyes shone like the clearest of crystal, or how he was so strong and soft at the same time, holding Yuuri tight through the night yet blushing hard when Yuuri peppered those little kisses over the bridge of his nose where freckles had started to sprout in the sunlight … they could never know it was Victor Nikiforov that Yuuri was in love with. If they did, it would be all over.

And yet, Yuuri couldn’t imagine a future without Victor in it anymore. It frightened him. His family could never know, yet Yuuri could never know anything else. He couldn’t have both…

But for now, he didn’t care.

For now, he would enjoy the time with his family and look forward to the shower of kisses he would give Victor when he saw him again. It wouldn’t be long. Just a few days away…

“When are you going to bring someone home for your sister?”

_“Otou-san!”_

“I’m kidding - kidding!”

Yuuri just laughed at the commotion behind him, shaking his head while his mother chucked. He never wanted it to end…

The front door slammed open.

Yuuri leapt out of his skin.

The dish wasn’t so lucky this time - it bounced off the rim of the sink with a hard crack, shattering over the floor into a hundred shards.

Yuuri’s hand went to his belt on instinct - where his ODM gear would usually be. He wasn’t in uniform now though; no boots, or harness, or jacket… just soft trousers and the rough leather of his belt, simple and harmless. He felt all but naked without his uniform and equipment, heart rate dangerously high and instincts still screaming at him-

“Minako?”

Yuuri glanced up at his mother’s voice.

His old teacher stood in the doorway, looking like a ghost of her old self. He wasn’t sure if it was the pale tinge to her skin or her watering eyes… Minako never cried... but she did now. She just gasped, knuckles white as she clung to the doorframe like she would crumble without it.

“Minako?” his father sounded unusually subdued at the table. Perhaps he could see, perhaps he could tell… “What’s wrong?”

Minako just looked up… to Yuuri.

Chills ran down Yuuri’s spine. He knew that look. He’d seen it on people before, too many times before - fear. Stark, and ice cold. Yuuri straightened up stiffly, heart already sinking with dread long before his old friend’s eyes connected with his.

“Yuuri…” even her voice wavered. “It’s Trost…”

Yuuri didn’t have the will to ask, heart boxing against his ribcage and swallowing the thick, dry lump in his throat.

 

* * *

 

The courtyard was cold and bleak compared to the warmth and laughter from his parents’ home. Soldiers milled around in the morning light, spending last precious moments with loved ones, with their gods, on their knees in prayer, or just in their solitude with eyes wide and faces white – all waiting for more horses to arrive to take them south to their doom.

Yuuri was one of them now, his family grave and ashen faced around him. They’d wanted to come to say goodbye.

_Goodbye…_

Yuuri’s hands clenched tight at his sides, knuckles white and jaw tense. None of his family dared look up, eyes all low and arms drawn tight around each other. He could see it in their faces – they were all thinking terrible things they didn’t have the heart or courage to voice aloud.

It was okay.

He thought them too.

It was just like from years ago, just like Shiganshina all over again…

He didn’t feel like a man anymore, didn’t feel like a person. Suddenly all his hopes and dreams vanished like they’d never even existed, like they never even mattered. He wasn’t a person anymore. He was just a lump of flesh that air mechanically pumped in and out of, organs working in tandem like a machine until the parts holding together gave out and broke apart.

It was the only way to make the idea of his death more bearable. Functionality was less terrifying than thinking about how it would feel to be swallowed alive, or crushed between Titan teeth, or pulled apart like he was nothing more than a strip of meat-

 _“The wall’s been breached,”_ Minako had said, voice barely anything more than a hushed whisper. _“The Titans are inside.”_

Yuuri wanted to say he’d never seen it coming, that it was a nightmare he’d never dared imagine… but it was a lie. He knew. Deep down, he’d always known that their world would never survive. Not after Shiganshina. Not after he’d joined the scouts and been outside the walls, not after he’d seen what they were really like…

Humanity never stood a chance. It was just a matter of time.

He scowled bitterly to himself, nails biting into the flesh of his palm until Yuuri felt the sting of blood wetting his skin.

It wasn’t what he expected to feel. He’d thought he’d feel frightened, trembling and afraid like his first mission outside the walls, like that day where Victor had plucked him out of danger in the forest when he’d been paralysed with fear.

He didn’t feel any of that.

He just felt rage – rage, and bitter regret. It wasn’t fair. None of this was supposed to happen, nothing should have to live this…

Yuuri felt angry about the prospect of dying. Not for his own death, but for his life; all the things he would miss out on. He and Victor wouldn’t have a future. He wouldn’t have the chance to live with him in their own house, raise a kid or two, with all the dogs they could find space for running around their garden. He would never see what Victor would look like when his laughter lines set into his skin and the crinkles by his eyes stopped smoothing over. He would never get to buy Victor flowers on his birthday or learn what his fashion sense might be once the chains of a soldier’s uniform were taken away. Yuuri would never know, never see – and he was angry about it.

Out of the corner of his eye, Yuuri watched two figures exchange a soulful kiss, wet with tears and tender with goodbyes.

A stab jolted through him, eyes narrowing before he could help it. His own lover was worlds away. A bitter reminder of the last confession, the last kiss they would never have.

It wasn’t fair.

 

* * *

 

Victor saw the oblivion a mile away. His heart dropped into his stomach with dread as he saw the swarm of Titans huddles towards the gap in the wall wrapped around the city of Trost, taller ones ducking and crawling to get inside. It was a sickening sight, one Victor had hoped never to have see again. Once was already too much.

History was repeating itself.

And he didn’t like humanities chances.

He could see the cracks in the grey stone creeping up the walls from the hole, frighteningly high – the same place where he and Yuuri had made out that one time, sneaking a forbidden kiss against the outside of the walls…

He used to smile at that memory – now, it just churned his gut, the illusion cracking and shattering just like the wall.

They’d been naïve.

 _He’d_ been naïve.

“Victor!”

The Captain jolted at Christophe’s voice, sharp and clear beside him. Cold green eyes glared across the horses, leaning low over his steed to keep Victor’s pace.

Victor just clenched his jaw and blinked ahead, turning his head back to the wall. He tried to ignore the hot sting behind his eyes, fisting the reins tighter in his already blistered hands.

“He’ll be okay!” called across from beside. “You know him – he’ll be fine.”

Victor’s jaw just clenched.

He knew Yuuri alright – and he knew exactly why Christophe was reassuring him, thinking along the same deadly lines. All the reassurances in the world didn’t mean a thing though. Not until he saw Yuuri for himself one last time.

 _Alive_.

He would see him one last time before he met his maker. Victor promised himself that he would.

 

* * *

 

“Will you see him?”

Yuuri’s fists just clenched tighter. “I don’t know.”

A stiff breath of silence.

“Is he there?”

A ragged breath sucked through his lungs. “I don’t know.”

More silence.

“Do you think ... he’s the one?”

His mother’s questions were careful and quiet, but every syllable cracked through Yuuri’s hard exterior a little more, shattering the careful wall he’d built around his heart. He didn’t want to think about the things she was asking about. He didn’t… but he might never get another chance to think about them.

Yuuri pressed his eyes shut, chest tightening painfully. He didn’t dare open his mouth again – he wasn’t sure if the words would make it out before the sob building in the back of his throat.

 _I don’t know,_ he answered in his head instead.

He’d never thought about it.

Perhaps it was because he was in the Scouts, and in the Scouts every day counted like it was your last. Perhaps it was because nobody retired from the wings of freedom but in a bath of their own blood for finding the one to mean anything. Perhaps it was because he couldn’t even consider what loving someone else might even be like were it not for Victor, because he _had_ Victor and he took it for granted.

And perhaps it was because he just didn’t care. Because while he had Victor to wake up to, to see every day and watch the budding sunlight scatter over before he donned The Captain into existence, he was happy regardless.

He didn’t know.

He didn’t know a lot of things.

He didn’t know where Victor was. He didn’t know if he’d see him again. He didn’t know what would happen. The worst thing was though, that he didn’t know what Victor’s voice sounded like when it said ‘ _I love you’_ – that was what hurt the most.

“I think so,” he whispered, more to himself than his mother, blinking away the blur building in his eyes. “I hope…”

He wanted Victor to be the one. He wanted to wake up with him for the rest of his days, fall asleep with his silky silver hair draped over his skin, and whisper ‘I love you’s between heated breaths, hearts beating in sync… that was what the one did, right? That was what it meant to be in love. Even if that future was quickly dwindling, it didn’t mean Yuuri wanted it any less.

He wanted to believe Victor loved him. He’d done everything to show that he loved him. He’d drawn blood for Yuuri, let Yuuri hold his life in his hands, protected him, cared for him, done him favours that could end his career if they was found out… so why were three little words so out of reach? They gleamed in Victor’s eyes when he looked at Yuuri. Every inch of his body screamed it when he handled Yuuri as delicately as if he were made of glass. Yuuri could all but taste it on Victor’s lips when they lay together, breathing into each other’s mouths like they were one.

But no words. Victor had never said like Yuuri had said it. And as much as Yuuri wanted to say it didn’t bother him… it did. Now that he might never get the chance, it did.

A nerve in Yuuri’s jaw twitched at the reminder, air knocking out of his chest like someone had kicked it out of him. It was a bitter thought, one he’d tried to avoid…

Now, it didn’t matter; his priorities and perspective flipped on their heads by the dire circumstances looming down upon them. Such trivial things didn’t matter now, on the edge of oblivion, where both of them might be dead before they could see another sunrise, let alone each other.

Three words didn’t matter.

But Yuuri wanted them all the same.

The distant clop of hooves on cobbles clipped through the silence of the courtyard and heads turned, their last moments of safety quickly being ripped out of their hands. This was it. When those horses turned round the corner, they would be riding down to Trost. To battle. To death.

Yuuri didn’t want to die like this.

His eyes narrowed across the courtyard at all the lover’s exchanging one embrace, one last kiss, just like he wanted to. He hated them for their chance. It wasn’t fair.

The courtyard looked bleaker than ever in that last moment, store windows with their shutters drawn and square empty but for soldiers. It should be bustling with market at this time of morning, streaming with people and trade. _Life_. Instead, everybody had been evacuated. Instead, everything was abandoned. The food stalls had been emptied for provisions for the fighting soldiers, the others left with their doors and windows still wide open from the locksmith to the jewellers. It all seemed so trivial now, all so pointless…

Yuuri’s eyes lingered on the jewellers store though, drawn to it with an aching heart and a bitter taste in his mouth. His fists clenched tighter.

It wasn’t fair.

… but if he was going to die, he was going to die beside the love of his life with as close a happily ever after as they were allowed.

 

* * *

 

“Victor! Victor, stop!”

Victor didn’t stop.

He didn’t stop running, didn’t stop slicing – didn’t stop killing. He slayed and murdered every Titan that dared step in his path, everything else falling away but that one crucial mission. One less Titan was one less Titan that could hurt Yuuri. It was the sole thought that drove him.

His skin was burning, hot from the constant burn of Titan blood evaporating off his skin and clothes. Sweat blinked off his eyelashes, muscles screaming with exertion.

Still, he fought.

He didn’t dare stop.

His knees buckled when he slapped down on a rooftop – Titan body still falling from his last kill, the light still leaving its eyes. Victor didn’t care. He was already looking for more, for that shock of black hair he was so familiar with, legs already bracing to take off again at just a moment’s notice-

Christophe staggered down beside him, gasping for breath.

“For God’s sake,” he glared at his Captain, knuckles white around his blades. “You’re going to get us both killed.”

Victor didn’t even blink. He just scanned over the bloodied rooftops of Trost – and the bodies scattered over them, checking everything over and over again. There was so much blood, so many bodies … Victor hadn’t seen the one he was looking for yet though. He wasn’t sure if that was good or not…

“Do you see him?” he asked, voice barely more than a whisper.

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Christophe shoot him one last glare.

Victor didn’t care. He really didn’t – he just cared about when Christophe turned to the city again, shrewd eyes scanning the blood-soaked streets.

“No.”

Victor’s mouth thinned.

It didn’t reassure him as much as he’d hoped.

The city was in ruins. Titans were still swarming in from the breach – unrelenting and unstoppable – while cadets and scouts were dropping like flies. Why were they still out there? Victor couldn’t understand it. Anybody could see that the city was lost, but where was the retreat order? It was a massacre.

They needed to defend Wall Rose. If that wall fell as Wall Maria had those years ago, humanity was done for. They could barely survive as it was…

But he couldn’t leave the battlefield – not while Yuuri might still be out there.

Humanity be damned.

“Just keep your mind in the fight,” Christophe spat beside him, wiping the blood from his mouth. “And watch out for your damned left!”

 

* * *

 

Riding was almost worse than waiting. There was no more news as they rode south, no idea of what was happening or what they were riding into. Maybe there was no news because there was no one left. It was the thought on everyone’s mind, each pale face harbouring the same horrors.

Yuuri didn’t linger on them, didn’t dare stop to think.

He just curled his fingers around the two gold rings he had linked through a chain around his neck, a handful of coins left on the abandoned jeweller’s countertop in their place.

He thought only about Victor, about seeing him one last time. If just to make it official before they died, to have him know once and for all what he meant to him. It was his last wish – his _only_ wish.

His lips parted in a gasp, metal of the rings cool against his mouth. One last time, he prayed, ignoring the sting behind his eyes. Just one more…

 

* * *

 

Victor wasn’t sure when he’d lost track of Christophe. All he knew was that he’d not been paying any attention his second in command for a long time, eyes only for blue rimmed glasses and dark hair amongst the chaos that was only just starting to settle, leaving more questions than answers for Victor. A part of him knew he should be horrified - curious at best - about the Titan at the newly plugged gate and the cadet being pulled from it, but he couldn’t give it a second thought. All he cared about was that he hadn’t found Yuuri. And when he turned to ask Chris for another report, the soldier was gone.

He still hadn’t found any trace of Yuuri - dead or alive. He wasn’t in the ranks of survivors. He wasn’t in the hoard of the wounded. Victor had checked every single face, checked every single name. Yuuri wasn’t there.

So he was searching the one place left he might be - Trost.

Or what was left of it.

Victor stood at the crest of the newly sealed wall, surveying the recaptured city with his bloodied green cape blowing in the wind. He was scanning every street, checking every body… he had to know.

Titans still pooled around the inner wall, trapped in the remnants of the city and drawn by the bodies at the main wall staring down at them and deciding how to deliver their fate. Victor hoped they stayed put. It left the city emptier of threats while he searched, praying he would come up short. He wasn’t sure what he would do if he found Yuuri, if he was too late or _worse_ , if Yuuri had been alive when Victor had made it back and he hadn’t been able to save him…

But it wasn’t thick blue rimmed glasses he found first when he stalked through the streets, forcing himself to look into every dead face and _know._

It was stark blonde hair - matted with blood.

Victor’s breath caught.

He followed the trail of blood with dread - to the mottled legs ripped off below the kneecaps, the body slumped along the wall, the entrails spilled out from his ripped open side, and the dull, empty green eyes staring up at him, cold and unseeing. Blood smeared over the front of Christophe’s uniform, mouth parted around his last, dying breath. He didn’t even have his blades ...

Victor’s knees hit the ground.

He heard the thud more than he felt the impact, white trousers drenching in crimson and cold washing over him, fear clawing at his throat and horror stopping his heart dead.

He didn’t know when it had happened. He didn’t know how it had happened - but he could guess: crawling in agony, blades gone, helpless and alone, while Titan’s loomed in on him, ready to tear him apart limb from limb… all while Victor had looked away for just a few minutes, and had lost him. If he had paid more attention, maybe he would have seen, maybe he would have heard…

His hands were trembling when they reached out and ripped the wings of freedom badge from his comrade’s jacket, fingers pulling back wet with red.

Victor couldn’t bear to think about it.

He just knew that he couldn’t let it happen to Yuuri too.

 

* * *

 

“Phichit!”

Yuuri slung himself down before his horse had even stopped moving, legs running the second they hit the ground. He couldn’t help it - the moment he saw Phichit amongst the crowd of white faced, traumatised cadets in the courtyard, he couldn’t hold himself back. He hadn’t been sure if he’d ever see him again...

Phichit barely turned at his name, blinking in Yuuri’s direction a fraction of a second before Yuuri flung himself at him. His cheeks were wet, Yuuri noticed - Phichit was crying.

“Oh my God!” he just gasped into the shoulder of his friend’s jacket, sheer relief crashing over him like a tidal wave, clinging to him like he might somehow melt away under his very fingertips. “I’m so glad you’re okay! With the mission, I- I just didn’t know! And when I heard-”

His words died mid sentence.

He wasn’t sure what stopped him; the stillness, the shaking, the crying, the whimpers… all sounded alarm bells in Yuuri’s mind, but he wasn’t sure which one alerted him first.

The shaking was easiest to notice. Phichit trembled hard, shudders rocking through his body from his hunched shoulders to his fingertips, knocking the tears off his eyelashes with their force. He wasn’t even hugging Yuuri back - just stood stock still in Yuuri’s arms, leaning into his shoulder like it was all that was keeping him upright.

Yuuri pulled back, frowning. “Phichit?”

It was only then he noticed the badge Phichit clutched tight in his hand - the wings of freedom. A scout. The edges were rough and shredded, ripped from a uniform… whose?

“Chris…” the fingers holding the badge clenched tighter, knuckles white. “H-he-”

It clicked.

Yuuri pulled him into a hug before he even had to say it, clinging to Phichit as sobs wracked through his best friend and shuddered through him. It was terrifying to watch - he couldn’t even imagine what it must actually _feel_ like.

His mouth ran dry with horror, eyes staring wide over his best friend’s shoulder. Fear flooded through him, cold washing down his spine.

His breath hitched. “And Victor?”

They were always together, Yuuri pieced together in his head with dread settling in his bones like ice. If Chris had…m-maybe Victor had...

Phichit hiccuped over his shoulder.

“O-office.”

Yuuri pressed his eyes shut, whispering a silent _thank you_ to the darkening skies above that he didn’t dare let his best friend hear, fingers squeezing tight around his shoulders one last time before he pulled back. He hated himself the moment he saw Phichit’s wet, broken eyes, staggering without someone to hold him.

“I’m sorry,” Yuuri said - honestly - as he backed away, already moving. He couldn’t help it - he just had to see for himself, to see Victor. “I’ll be back!”

 

* * *

 

Victor didn’t know how long he stared at the page on his desk before he picked up his pen, bloodied handkerchief still damp with his best friend’s blood folded up beside it. It was a stark reminder of exactly why he was doing what he was.

He didn’t want another one.

Victor bowed his head… and wrote.

 

* * *

 

“Victor!”

Yuuri didn’t knock. He should have knocked, but he didn’t - just so desperate to see his Captain, his Victor… Yuuri wrenched the door to Victor’s office open before his name had even finished falling from his lips, heart in his mouth with sheer panic. He couldn’t help it; the walk to that office had terrified him. Too much blood, too much loss, too many bodies lined up side by side along the street…

Victor looked up as Yuuri barged in, pen pausing mid-air over the paper he’d been writing. Yuuri pushed away the nagging voice in his head – Victor was writing? At a time like this…

He looked fresh from battle – bloodied rag beside his arm and blood splattered over his usually pristine white shirt. His bangs were damp over his eye. Yuuri could guess what he’d washed out. Stormy blue eyes blinked up behind the darkened silver strands, narrowed and sinister.

Yuuri’s steps stuttered.

He wasn’t sure what he’d expected. He knew it wouldn’t be pleasant. Tears, screaming, desperately flying into one another’s arms and clinging on like they’d be ripped apart at any moment – that was more what he’d expected…

…not Victor’s glare, cold and stony. He hadn’t expected that.

It made something curl in Yuuri’s stomach with unease, eyes falling down to the page Victor had been writing. “Wha… what are you doing?”

He didn’t get an answer immediately.

It could be anything. In that moment, anything was possible and each possibility held new fears for Yuuri, fresh anguish. It could be Chris’s death certificate, could be his resignation letter – his _suicide note –_ with what Victor must have seen that day, with so much death, Yuuri couldn’t rule anything out. It was enough to drive anyone mad – even Victor.

Victor just flashed him one last curt look before he followed his gaze down though, pen angling upright again from where it had drooped in his hand. It scratched quietly against the page as he finished his word and finished the letter, the unmistakable swirl of his signature easy to decipher. Yuuri would recognise it anywhere. It looked stiffer than normal though, usual flourish and grace foregone for sombre formality.

It made the hairs on the back of Yuuri’s neck stand on end, the sound of his heartbeat behind his ribcage loud enough to his own ears to be deafening. He swallowed quietly - something was wrong.

Victor didn’t look at him - he didn’t so much as glance up at the cadet as he folded the paper with careful fingers, following the trace with his eyes like it was the work of the king himself.

What was wrong?

Yuuri didn’t know what to do. He didn’t dare move – didn’t dare _breathe_! – in the silent office as Victor stood up slowly from behind the desk, letter in hand. Yuuri wanted to ask… but he couldn’t. The words caught in his throat, the look on Victor’s face rendering him speechless.

Finally, Victor’s dark gaze lifted.

“Here.”

The word was blunt and hard – clipped with authority and command.

The paper fluttered as Victor held it out, wax seal on display, still drying. Victor’s seal, as a Captain. Why would he need that?

Yuuri didn’t move.

“What’s that?”

His voice didn’t sound like his own, croaking and hoarse, only just not cracking at the last syllable.

He eyed the letter like it was about to spawn teeth and claws, like it was a gun or a blade rather than just a simple page of paper. He couldn’t help it. He was scared – _Victor_ scared him. That look in his eye wasn’t Victor.

It was the Captain.

The Captain’s mouth downturned in the corners, lips thinning. The blue behind his eyes raged. “It’s a recommendation,” he said simply. “For the military police.”

Yuuri’s breath hitched.

“W-what?”

Cold splashed down Yuuri’s spine like Victor had slapped him, feeling the colour drain from his face. It sank in slowly. Horribly. The seal, the letter, the fact that it was held out to Yuuri, staring him right in the face – Victor was recommending _him?_

 _Why_?

“A good word from me should get you there,” Victor just said quietly, gaze still dark and unreadable. “I’m recommending your transfer with immediate effect.”

Yuuri forgot how to breathe. His eyes blinked wide and the air choked in his lungs, heart thudding to an abrupt stop behind his ribcage. His skin prickled, tiny hairs lifting. His instincts flashed warning. _Something was wrong_ , he thought breathlessly, _something was very, very wrong…_

He didn’t qualify for the military police. He hadn’t passed in the top ten cadets in his class – not even close! He’d barely passed at all, pushing himself through the qualifying through sheer determination rather than by any actual skill.

But a letter from a Captain like Victor … that could change things.

Victor was sending him away.

But why?

They Survey Corps needed scouts more than ever – especially after Trost! They should be collecting all the man power they could muster against the Titans, the military police of the interior the only soldiers not answering the call to arms in the crisis. It didn’t make sense. Victor needed him here, at his side by the weakened wall. Yuuri wasn’t good enough to be spared. And more importantly, Yuuri didn’t want to go.

His fingers curled into fists at his side. Something hot burned through his chest, bitter and angry and – “I refuse.”

He didn’t mean to say it out loud.

At least, he didn’t think he didn’t mean to… the words slipped effortlessly past his lips, tone just as short as Victor’s. He didn’t take them back though. He would never take them back.

Victor’s eyes narrowed, letter still outstretched.

“I refuse,” Yuuri said again.

Steely resolve hardened in his chest with each syllable – firmer this time – voice bold and unwavering. It was a dangerous tone to take with a Captain. Yuuri didn’t back down.

He squared his shoulders, braced for the backlash. His muscles tensed, back snapping straight and arms glued to his sides – braced for salute to his Captain rather than a reunion with the love of his life. He held Victor’s eye steadily, willing himself to hold firm. He didn’t like what he was hearing. None of it…  

Victor’s eyes flashed dangerously. “You can’t refuse.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m your commanding officer and I’m giving you an order.” The letter flapped as Victor struck it out again, firmer than before. “Take the promotion.”

“No.”

Yuuri could guess. He could guess why Victor was doing this, a million reasons as there were – the only thing was, Yuuri didn’t like any of them.  

A nerve twitched in Victor’s jaw, eyes barely anything more than stormy slits. Yuuri had never seen Victor so angry before – at least, not at him. He understood the way the soldiers quaked now, why Victor was feared as well as admired – he was terrifying when he wanted to be.

For once though, Yuuri counted himself lucky that he was furiously stubborn…

“Dammit Yuuri…” Victor’s fingers curled in the paper, spare hand slapping down on the desk as he leaned over it. “Take the promotion. You’re a bright soldier. You’re wasted here - you’re wasting your life.”

Yuuri sucked in a sharp breath – so there it was. Wasting his life… like it would be ripped from him if he stayed, like he wasn’t strong enough to survive…

That was what Yuuri heard.

His fists clenched tighter.

“I don’t want it,” he bit out as steadily as he could muster, own eyes narrowing sharply at his Captain. “You can’t make me.”

He couldn’t. He really couldn’t, even with his stupid letter. Yuuri didn’t want to go and there was no force on earth that could make him. What would Victor do? Threaten him? With what – Victor loved him, and Yuuri was already posted at the front lines, life already up for grabs. Victor had nothing to bargain with, and Yuuri knew it.

Victor knew it too – if the sudden glimmer in his eyes was anything to go by. “Yuuri, please…”

His hard exterior cracked just enough for his thinned lips to soften and the sparkle to build in his eyes, wet and traitorous. Victor was _crying._ Yuuri’s heart ached behind his ribcage, longing to reach forward and just _hold_ Victor…

He only just held himself back, gritting his teeth with restraint. _He didn’t want this_ , he told himself. He couldn’t want this…

He didn’t deserve it. He didn’t deserve Victor’s compassion and mercy – no matter why it was being granted him. Guilt or love, Yuuri didn’t deserve to be safely tucked behind the interior while other soldiers – _good_ soldiers, good men – offered up their lives in his place, just because Yuuri had an important boyfriend. He’d be leaving Phichit. He’d be abandoning his best friend to die…

Yuuri gasped, breath quaky and shuddering. “ _Why?”_

He blinked hard but it did nothing to wash away the heat behind his eyes, the unmistakable build of tears matching Victor’s. His once steady fists trembled. _Dammit._

“Why?” he tried again, head shaking. “Why are you doing this?”

Victor had to know, Yuuri begged silently. He had to know Yuuri could never accept this, could never run away. Pride aside, there was honour – how could be possibly call himself human if he so cowardly abandoned his place in the fight? How could he look his mother in the eye? How could he tell her about the man he loved, knowing he’d just abandoned him on the front line to live or die as fate pleased…

Victor tore his gaze away from Yuuri’s, letting his arm fall. Air whistled out of Yuuri’s lungs as it went.

His question went unanswered.

“Is this because of Chris?”

Victor winced, pressing his eyes shut.

“Phichit told me…”

He watched with a cracking composure as Victor twitched, fingers curling around the letter like he was in pain. Had he seen it? Yuuri wondered. He didn’t know what Victor had seen, how traumatised he was…

Still though, Victor didn’t say anything.

“Why, Victor?” Yuuri still pressed, relentless. He had to know.

Victor’s silence was worse than anything he might have had to say, Yuuri was almost positive. He didn’t care what Victor said anymore. Whether it was over because he was tired of Yuuri, because he was afraid, because he didn’t believe in Yuuri - Yuuri was beyond caring almost, for the fact that there would be something to care about. The not knowing was worse. He’d had enough of not knowing. He wanted the truth. He wanted to know.

_Why… why him…_

Victor didn’t move, silent and still.

Yuuri’s head shook bitterly. “You can’t do this!” spilled from his mouth, harsh and uncaring. He was all but shouting - at his _Captain_! But what more could his Captain do to him now… “You can’t-”

“Dammit, Yuuri!”

Victor’s fist slammed into the desk, wood quaking under the impact. Yuuri jolted, like he’d the one who’d been hit.

He flinched when Victor finally looked up, his furious gaze sparking like hot lightning as it connected with his. A stormy sky stared back at Yuuri, clashed and angry, filled with rage … and tears. Victor blinked fast through the thick moisture building in his eyes, knuckles white against the desk.

Yuuri watched Victor’s composure shatter along with his own anger, shocked into submission as Victor, the Captain crumbled in a fit of vulnerable rage and Victor, the man spilled forth.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Victor all but hissed, fists shaking on the desk. “It’s because I lo-”

He choked.

He had one word that would save him – that would explain him – and he choked.

The word caught in Victor’s throat and his breath hitched, mouth hovering open around the last syllable that was so close but not close enough. His eyes popped wide, horrified.

Disappointment drowned the last of Yuuri’s sympathy, smothering his surprise in bitterness. His jaw set, eyes narrowing harshly at the man still wrestling with his tongue in front of him, huffing with breath and trying to force out that one word that meant so much and yet was impossibly out of reach - and the ache behind his ribs snapped.

“You still can’t say it,” he wondered aloud, deathly quiet. “Even now, after everything … you still can’t say it...”

In another life, Yuuri would have flinched at his own words at the spite they held, the tone so resentful he wondered how they possibly could have come from his mouth. To Victor of all people, the man he was supposed to be in love with.

In that moment though, he could hardly stand to look at him.

He’d thought it didn’t matter.

He’d thought he’d accepted that he didn’t need to hear it, that actions were louder than words and that Victor loved him through his actions if nothing else - only now his actions were pushing him away too, and there were no words to soften the blow. It was a hard pill to swallow.

Yuuri had been ready to ride right into the jaws of Hell itself for this man … and Victor couldn’t even spit out three simple words.

He’d thought it didn’t matter...

He’d thought wrong.

“Thank you for the offer,” he said, nothing thankful in his voice at all. It didn’t matter. He was already on his way to the door. “I decline.”

 _Say it,_ he willed. The tiny voice in the back of his head was screaming out - screaming at Victor! _Say it!_ It screamed and shouted, desperate, begging… because it wasn’t too late. If Victor said it now, Yuuri would turn back, would take it all back…

A thud of a fist meeting wood was all that bid him farewell though, and a bitter curse in a language that Yuuri didn’t understand.

Yuuri gasped before he could help it, hand shooting up to the neckline of his shirt and tasting salt on his lips, his cheeks wet. His fingers closed around the outline of the rings through his shirt, stark through the thin material. He clung to them like they were oxygen materialised, like they could somehow soothe the pain shooting through his chest.

Victor had found his voice - but he’d rather spend it swearing at himself than swearing love to Yuuri...

Yuuri blinked. Tears dripped off his chin.

_Say it!_

But Yuuri didn’t hear another word as he left the Captain’s office, neither curse nor confession. There was nothing. There was nothing there for him anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm baaaaaaaack B)


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so last chapter I broke up a little bit. Part 1 now.
> 
> Part 2 in a few days when a tiiiiiiiny bit of editing is done.
> 
> Brace yourselves.

The world looked peaceful. Sunset oranges and red spilled over the brick horizon, Yuuri squinting into the light bouncing off the tiles of the rooftops. From his perch on the tip of a chimney, he had the perfect view. Nothing moved. Nothing made a sound. He just stared at the sinking ball of yellow in the sky, sighing at the heat still beating its way into his skin like there was nothing wrong in the whole world.

Then he looked down.

Bodies still littered the streets.

Blood still stained the cobblestones.

The stench of abandoned corpses - too many to count - thickening the air and turning his nose, nevermind his stomach.

Worst of all though - despite all the bloodshed and gore, despite the ache in his muscles and the burn behind his eyes - was the traitorous burn of the gold rings bearing into his skin under his shirt, metal hot against his collar bone. They were a bitter reminder. They made him feel worse than death.

“So…” Phichit’s voice wafted up from the roof tiles below, fellow cadet perched on the edge with his legs swinging free. “You were really going to do it?”

Yuuri winced… and glanced down at his best friend.

Phichit wasn’t okay.

Yuuri didn’t expect him to be after what happened, but it still frightened him to see it. The cadet swung his legs off the roof edge like a child on a swing, but the movement was stiff. Mechanical. Like he was reminding himself how his knees worked as a function rather than anything casual. His voice was robotic. He hadn’t smiled. He hadn’t stopped crying. If he turned his head back away from the sunset, Yuuri knew he would see fresh tears glittering on his tan cheeks - silent, but ever present.

The Phichit he knew wouldn’t have asked like that - wouldn’t be so blunt - but he wasn’t the Phichit he knew. That boy was gone. He had been the moment someone had handed him the bloodied badge that had once laid over the heart of the blonde second-in-command...

Yuuri just clenched his jaw at the horizon, forcing down the lump in his throat. “I don’t know what I was going to do…”

He didn’t know what he had been thinking. When he’d thought of the rings, he’d been just as out of self as Phichit was, driven mad by sheer blinding desperation to see Victor again. He’d never imagined their reunion to be how it was though, that Victor would try and send him away...

Yuuri reached up and curled his fingers around the rings hanging from the chain, feeling the material glow through the fabric of his shirt.

“What else do you do with matching gold rings though?”

Yuuri winced.

“I don’t know,” his eyes pressed shut at the tightness clamping around his chest, trying to focus on keeping his breaths steady.  _ In, out, in, out… _ “A good luck charm maybe?”

It was no good luck charm. It was a promise - or at least, it would have been - that he would never leave, that he would stay by Victor’s side forever - even if their forever had been destined to end that sundown with that fall of Trost, if the battle hadn’t swung in humanity’s favour… not that it had mattered now. What did it matter when Victor wanted Yuuri gone anyway?

The pain hadn’t dulled - it had just morphed into something that bled slowly into his skin rather than stabbed brutally at his heart. Every inch of his skin tingled like it was poisoned, like every breath of oxygen was tainted with life that Yuuri almost wished he could give back.

He didn’t want a life like this.

Below, his friends lay broken on the streets. The more he’d moved through Trost, the more he’d seen - the more  _ faces _ he’d seen. There were a surprising number of faces … it was just the rest of most of the bodies that had been missing…

He didn’t want the reality unfurling below him, the city ruined. Dead. The only things within its walls now were rotting corpses, the steam of decomposing Titan flesh, and few breathing soldiers scattered sparse around the city, waiting for the all clear that all the remaining Titan’s wandering the city had been slain.

Yuuri couldn’t see anything, couldn’t hear anything. He was happy to wait though. He didn’t exactly want to go back to his other reality either… 

“But you don’t think they look like-”

“I know what they look like.”

Yuuri didn’t want to talk about it…except he did. It was the worst and the only thing he could think about, bottling up his mind with nothing else but how much it hurt. The anger burned beneath his skin, simmering in his veins. He didn’t feel the blazing rage anymore, but the quiet anger was still there, the insult still fresh to Yuuri’s pride.

He’d been an idiot. An absolute fool to think … well, everything. The rings. The affair. The way he thought Victor felt… it didn’t matter anymore. 

It was over.

“He doesn’t love me, Phichit…”

Yuuri wasn’t prepared for how his voice trembled, blinking fast to clear the blur rising in his vision. He would not cry. He could not waste any more tears over that man.

But everytime he thought of him just made the hurt sting deeper, made the panic in Victor’s eyes when his confession had choked in the Captain’s throat flash behind his eyes. Victor hadn’t said it because he couldn’t. Why couldn’t he? Because it wasn’t true? Yuuri didn’t know, didn’t care. He just wished he’d never joined the scouts.

He rubbed the back of his hand angrily over his eyes, chasing the thoughts away. It was stupid - every soldier was thinking that now, ruing the day they signed their lives over to the military. For them though, it was mourning their injuries, their dead friends, their lost homes, and shattered sanity of watching their fellow soldiers be torn apart before their very eyes… and Yuuri had just broken up with his boyfriend. His very much alive, very well boyfriend. 

Guilt swirled thick in his gut, only made worse when his eyes strayed to Phichit. He had no right to be so selfish… but the thoughts kept coming regardless, relentless and miserable.

He’d never asked Victor his reasons for recommending him to the military police, but did it really matter? Victor wanted him gone. Whatever the reason behind it, it still hurt. He wasn’t going to go. Whatever Victor said, whatever he did, he wouldn’t go to the interior - especially not now, when humanity needed him most on the outer walls. Victor couldn’t force him anyway. He couldn’t make Yuuri go.

Phichit sighed heavily, wrenching Yuuri out of his thoughts. Strained grey eyes stared over his shoulder at Yuuri from the roof edge, glistening with lips pressed together in a sad smile.

“He loves you, Yuuri,” he said, head shaking lightly. “He may not say it… but everyone can see it.”

Yuuri wished he could say his lip hadn’t quivered. “Why can’t he say it?”

It was all Yuuri wanted - just to hear those words cement what he longed to know for certain into being. He loved Victor. He just wanted to know Victor felt it too, aloud, just once…

Phichit couldn’t answer for sure thought, eyes falling away again. He shrugged, turning back to the sunset. “Maybe …” his shoulders shrugged again. “Maybe he just wants to protect you.”

“From what?”

“From yourself.”

He had a point.

Yuuri was careless when it came to Victor, reckless. Frighteningly so. He’d slain his first Titan on an impulse with Victor in the forefront of his mind. He’d raced back to Trost like the devil himself had been at his heels to get back and defend his love. Hell - the whole reason he’d joined the scouts in the first place had been because of Victor! There was nothing sane about his love for Victor. It was just as dangerous as the world they lived in, just as primitive and instinctual as the wild world beyond the walls.

He stared wide eyed at the russet roof tiles beneath his hanging feet, watching the fade of the light creep back along the slate and listening to the hard thud of his heart.

Was that really what Victor was trying to protect Yuuri from?

The idea rolled over and over in Yuuri’s head, hitching the breath in his lungs. It was sheer madness. The concept that Victor couldn’t tell Yuuri he loved him was because… Yuuri might love him too much? Might do stupid things as a consequence? Scratch that - Yuuri  _ would _ do stupid things if he knew Victor loved him. He would do anything for his Captain…

Like bury his pride and take the promotion?

Yuuri wasn’t sure.

“What would you do in his position, Yuuri?” Phichit’s voice clipped into his thoughts. “Would  you want him to stay here? Or would you let him go?”

Yuuri pressed his eyes shut. 

The answer was obvious - he just didn’t want to admit it.

It brought all his worst fears hammering home, all the blood stained thoughts that had haunted his journey south rising to the surface… he’d thought he’d be the one in Phichit’s shoes. He’d thought he’d be the one mourning a dead lover when the dust settled and the smoke cleared, and that if by some miracle he wasn’t he’d have Victor in his arms - in his  _ bed _ ! - swearing his love and his life to the Captain, kissing the words off Victor’s lips as his lover breathed them back to him with matching gold rings gleaming off their fingers…

Yuuri swallowed the bile clawing its way up his throat, lip quivering as more traitorous tears wet his cheeks. 

It hadn’t happened.

It was never going to happen.

Yuuri wasn’t sure what the next day would bring. An order to the front lines from Victor - a death sentence? A court martial? An execution notice? What did it matter - Yuuri was going to die one way or another; there was only one way to leave the scouts, after all… and every single option was better than Yuuri willingly walking away from Victor’s side, like a coward. Victor could force him all he liked, try whatever tricks he wanted to get Yuuri behind the inner wall - but Yuuri would never willingly walk away.

He would rather die. 

“ _ -Yuuri _ !”

He jolted his head up a fraction too late.

For a moment, everything was still. The sun was still setting, the grate of slate grinding against slate had stopped, nothing moving… until Yuuri found the place where the roof tiles had been dislodged and cracked, sliding out of place to crash down on the street below - right from the spot where Phichit had sat.

Now though … Phichit was gone.

Yuuri’s heart stopped, ice washing through his veins.

A scream echoed in his ears - thick like through water, but unmistakable nevertheless -  _ Phichit _ . Phichit was screaming. Phichit was gone.

What had happened?

He wasn’t left wondering long.

Fear gripped his heart as thick Titan fingers slapped on the roof tiles where Phichit had sat, clumsy and wild, sending more loosened tiles crashing down to the street below. Yuuri could only watch on in horror, feeling the blood drain from his face and time stop dead. Dots connected, brain cells fired - there wasn’t supposed to be any Titans left! They should have been all dead! 

It was tiny though, Yuuri saw, watching the monster’s fingertips claw over the edge of the tiles where Phichit had sat just moments ago, barely too short to reach the chimney and Yuuri with it. It must have been hidden in an alley - or in one of the houses even! They hadn’t seen it. Not until it was too late…

“Phichit!”

Yuuri threw himself forward - and jolted back almost instantly, feet slipping on the tiles from the impact and head knocking against the slate. Stars danced behind his eyes, fingertips going numb. 

_ No, _ Yuuri begged in his head, gasping for breath. He couldn’t pass out. Not now of all times Phichit’s screams still fresh in his ears.

_ His gear _ .

It struck him like lightning, remembering how he’d anchored his ODM gear to the chimney to swing them onto the rooftop an hour ago… and had never released it. The chord had pulled him back.

His hand fumbled at his hip for the release button, not caring that he couldn’t feel his legs or that his vision was swaying. He saw the Titan down on the street, Phichit in its hands as it abandoned it’s second meal for the food it had, turning its attention to his best friend as he screamed in its grasp. He had to help. He had to do something.

He caught the flash of terrified grey eyes and reaching arms, fingers desperately reaching for the rooftop. The Titan had Phichit by the hip - crushing his gear, Yuuri realised. Phichit was stuck, helpless…

“ _ Phichit!” _

The button wouldn’t work. The  _ damned _ button wouldn’t work - or maybe Yuuri couldn’t press it hard enough, fingers shaking and numb - useless to free himself from the cord anchoring him to the building out of harm's way and helpless to do anything but watch as-

A blood curdling scream distracted him.

He looked before he could stop himself.

Yuuri’s knees hit the rooftop at the red spilling before his eyes, at the white flash of bone and the unnatural twist of limbs, broken and useless… as they disappeared behind the Titan’s lips.

Phichit screamed. 

Yuuri had never heard a sound like it before but he couldn’t tear himself away, couldn’t wrench himself away from the nightmare in front of him. Phichit was getting picked apart. Yuuri saw the white of his femur, the shine of his liver in the sunlight, and heard the crack of his spine - still screaming, still with wide grey eyes far too tragically alive holding onto his own and bearing every ounce of the pain and torture.

Yuuri couldn’t move. 

He wanted to, but he couldn’t.

Fear prickled at his skin and lifted the fine hairs along his arms under his uniform, shivering despite the sweat running down the back of his neck. He couldn’t do anything but watch as his best friend was pickled apart before his very eyes until the screaming finally stopped, Yuuri still chained to the chimney by his own gear, out of harm’s way. 

“P-Phichit…”

 

* * *

 

He didn’t knock when he came back to Victor’s office. He barely lifted his head, feet dragging him forward like he was the dead one, like he was the one who’d had the life ripped from him.

He heard the chair move. 

He heard Victor rise and stride carefully around his desk.

He heard the pen clatter out of the Captain’s hand…

Yuuri still gasped when Victor wrapped his arms around him, like a shock of ice water had been thrown over him. His mouth hung open, chest jolting as his lungs convulsed for air they just couldn’t hold on to. Yuuri felt like he was suffocating, drowning in air, breathing but not breathing at the same time. It was horrible. He wanted it to stop.

There was no stopping it though.

There was only the warmth of Victor’s body pressed against his, the tender touch of his fingers lacing through his hair at the back of his head, holding him close.

“I’m sorry,” whispered in Yuuri’s ear, the rush of air giving him shivers. “I’m sorry. I thought it was safe…”

Soft kisses pressed over him; into his temples, his hair, brushing the tears away from his cheeks with tender pecks, all the while those strong, steady hands held him carefully like he was made of porcelain.

Yuuri felt numb to it all. 

He just stared with unseeing eyes, blinded and drawn to the crisp white of Victor’s shirt while noise rang shrilly in the back of his ears. Victor’s arms were all that held him together, all that kept him on his feet. 

_ Of course Victor knew _ , Yuuri couldn’t help but think in a daze. He knew everything. As Captain, of course someone would have told him that the safe operation involving his men had still cocked up, a life lost in carelessness. For once, Yuuri was glad he didn’t have to say anything - he wasn’t sure he could, even if he tried.

He wasn’t even sure what had brought him there. Vaguely, he remembered them fighting. He remembered anger. A letter. Shouting. Tears.

It all seemed so trivial now…

“I accept,” he finally gasped into Victor’s shoulder, barely recognising the rasp of his own voice. He just pressed his eyes shut, feeling the tears of defeat roll down his cheeks. “I’ll take the promotion.”

He wasn’t sure if it was his imagination of if Victor really did cling to him tighter in that moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: tags have changed ........


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE TAGS HAVE CHANGED
> 
> THE WARNINGS HAVE CHANGED
> 
> Check before you read!!!
> 
> I warned thee.

“So let me get this straight…” Yuuri said with a crooked eyebrow, notepad sagging in his hand. “You called me here - a _soldier_ \- because your _neighbor's dog_ is making too much noise at night? Have I got that right?”

He just stared.

A week into his new placement behind Wall Sina and he still couldn’t quite get used to it - he didn’t _want_ to get used to it! A whole seven days of pointless complaints and collecting taxes while men - good men! - were laying down their lives on the front lines with the scouts, while the military police did … nothing. They did nothing of note, nothing of worth. It made Yuuri sick to think about it, how they took their safety for granted, not caring about the cost of their freedom.

The lady in the doorway just stared back at him though, perfectly serious. “Well?” she demanded, folded her arms over her chest. “Aren’t you going to do something about it?”

Yuuri hoped the dog barked until it went hoarse.

 

* * *

 

Bored was the most accurate word to describe how he felt about his new placement with the military police, spending too much of his time waiting for a complaint to file in and too little time actually _doing anything_ . There was no fighting. No training. No _care_ in anything at all that mattered, beyond what each officer could scrape off citizens taxes in a personal bonus.

Yuuri watched those scrapes get gambled away every evening in the officer’s parlour as he delivered the tea - like a _waiter_ , rather than a soldier. It burned his pride, mocking his skills.

Worse though, was the hand that slapped over his ass.

“You’re not from around here, are you?”

Yuuri’s fingers froze over the teapot, eyes shooting wide and every muscle in his body freezing in an instant. The hand didn’t move, fingers groping the curve of his ass through his uniform. He recognised that voice letching in his ear, tasting the bitter alcohol oozing from the officer’s heavy breath...

“Leave him alone, Fischer,” another voice laughed from across the room. _Laughed -_ Yuuri flinced. “He’s from Trost.”

Just hearing the name made Yuuri jolt, made the air punch out of his lungs. Trost; where it had all fallen apart, the reason he was in that officer’s parlour getting felt up rather than by Victor’s side, fighting for humanity.

The hand twitched on Yuuri’s backside, body leaning in closer behind him. Yuuri turned his face away from the smell of whiskey rolling over his shoulder.  

“Trost, huh? So you saw ... _them_?”

_Titans._

Most of the men in that room had never seen a Titan first hand, let alone faced one, fought one, killed one… Yuuri’s hand clenched too tight around the sugar bowl, feeling the china creak in protest. All his skills - all his training - and he was stuck serving _tea._

This was what Victor wanted for him?

“You saw what they were like?”

Yuuri’s knuckles were clenched white, eyes wide down at the tea tray. He didn’t move - _couldn’t_ move!

Red flashed behind his eyes; the blood on the rag of Christophe’s badge, the colour of Phichit’s insides, the bloodshot of Victor’s eyes when Yuuri had spilled into his office and met him with that level stare, cold and uncaring in the worst way. Yuuri scrunched his eyes shut with a shudder, sending a spoon clattering to the carpet.

He barely heard it, body going numb. Screams echoed in his ears - the dying screams of his best friend as a Titan _plucked Phichit apart,_ limb by limb…

Yuuri saw what they were like alright.

A finger hooked under his chin, tilting his head up. Yuuri blinked his eyes open, wide with shock at the surprisingly tender gesture. There was nothing tender in the smirk that grinned at him through the blur of his unshed tears though, in the unmistakable molten look in Officer Muller’s emerald eyes.

“Hey, he didn’t mean to upset you,” he drawled, every word twisting Yuuri’s stomach sickeningly. “Come play with us? Cheer yourself up. I’ve got to warn you though - it’s strip poker.”

Officer Muller winked, light sparkling in his eyes.

Yuuri felt like he was going to be sick.

“I-I’ve got to go,” he just stammed, stepping back out of the officer’s touch. Before he was out of reach though, something grabbed his arm and yanked him back.

His back thudded into a solid body behind him, knocking the air out of his lungs and shooting his eyes wide with horror as a Muller’s spare hand roamed over his chest, feeling the flutter of his ribcage - it was not good. And worse was the unmistakable dig of a revolver at Muller’s belt pressing into the back of his hip bone.

“Hey, don’t walk away,” murmured in Yuuri’s ear, fingertips tucking his overgrown hair behind his ear. “A good game and you never know, you might be the one inviting next year.”

Yuuri just stared, shocked.

Was that how it worked? Sleep with the right person to become an officer, to fuck your way into positions that others sacrificed lives for in other divisions?

_That was exactly what Yuuri had done, after all._

Ice washed down Yuuri’s spine at the voice whispering in the back of his mind, murmuring his sins with ice chipped blue eyes flashing in the back of his head. Yuuri’s mouth ran dry, tongue darting out to wet his lips.

 _It was different,_ he tried to tell himself. He hadn’t wanted this, hadn’t slept with Victor to get somewhere. He’d loved Vic-

Yuuri yanked his arm free before he could finish the thought.

His eyes hung low - hidden behind the overhanging hair of his fringe - as the other officer’s across the room sniggered and laughed, listening to the murmured bets being placed. It sent rage boiling in his blood, humiliation scorching on the back of his neck. His glare bore into the carpet, thick and angry.

He was a soldier.

He’d fought, and trained, and pushed himself to kill, maim, and survive - not drink, smoke, and fuck his way up the career ladder behind Wall Sina.

He could feel his fists shaking at his sides, fighting the urge to plow it into the officer’s face behind him. It wasn’t like him. He wasn’t violent. He was careful and quiet, cautious and aware. He wasn’t outspoken. He wasn’t brave.

But Yuuri found he could be surprisingly brave when he had nothing to lose. And in the last few weeks… well, he really didn’t.

“Oh… you lost someone?”

Muller didn’t sound sorry at all, just as lecherous.

Yuuri realised a second too late that the rings were hanging out of the neck of his shirt, gold glinting out of the corner of his eye. His head dipped, heart sinking.

“Wife?”

Yuuri flinched, fingers reaching up to trace along the cool metal of the gold rings hanging at the chain around his neck. “Husband.”

At least, he wished Victor was...

 

* * *

 

_Dear Victor…_

Tears splashed down on the paper stretched over Yuuri’s desk, blurring the ink curling the ‘r’ of Victor’s name. Yuuri’s hand shook, pen scratching an edgy line over the letter he’d been trying to find the words for for the last two and a half weeks.

He wrote letters everyday, passing his off duty time; to his family, to what friends he had left in the scouts, to Victor ….

He never sent the last ones though. He just signed and sealed them, tucking them safely away in his bottom drawer of his desk in case one day he might be brave enough to give them to the Captain. He was a coward. That was why he’d accepted the promotion in the end after all - he didn’t have the nerve to face Victor again after that, Victor who still fought relentlessly with the scouts.

Victor never wrote.

He knew exactly where Yuuri was - he’d been the one to ensure every detail of Yuuri’s placement, to cover every possible pitfall - but still, he didn’t write.

Yuuri got the message.

And went back to staring out the window with tears running down his cheeks until his duty started, daydreaming about his lost best friend and a silver haired Captain defending the front walls, tall, strong, beautiful… and perfectly content without Yuuri.

 

* * *

 

It was three weeks into his placement that Yuuri met Otabek Altin.

Short black hair, stoic expression, quiet… he was perfect for Yuuri, the pair of them sharing tables in the courtyard sunshine mostly to avoid the other recruits trying to invite themselves over to fill the spots. They barely acknowledged each other. They _talked_ even less. Yuuri didn’t mind, content to read his letters in peace.

“You were in the scouts before this, weren’t you?” Altin broke the silence one day, not even looking up from his book.

Yuuri didn’t look up from his letter either.

He hoped his eyes were low enough to hide the panic flashing in his eyes, heart skipping a beat in his chest. Yuuri’s tongue wet his dry lips, trying to ignore the hard thump of his heartbeat behind his ribcage.

How did Altin know that?

Yuuri hadn’t said anything and nobody had asked - just the way Yuuri wanted to keep it. Nobody knew where he came from, just that he had arrived, timed so conveniently with the wave of new recruits fresh from graduating that nobody had the mind to question it. As far as his fellow recruits were concerned, there was nothing special about Yuuri at all.

Yuuri’s eyes flickered up over Mari’s letter, wondering what Altin was thinking behind those expressionless, blank eyes. Did he know? Did he know about Victor?

“I heard the officer’s talking.”

_Oh._

Yuuri’s head flopped back down, air whistling quietly out of his lungs. His fingers relaxed around the letter - he hadn’t realised he’d been clenching them.

“They’re setting bets against you.”

That piqued his curiosity.

“Against me what?” he asked, humourless smirk flittering across his face. Last time he’d heard the officer’s betting on him, it was who would be the first to get him into bed.

“Going back.”

Yuuri’s jaw gritted bitterly, letting his shoulders slump. Mari’s letter rustled in his fingers. “I have nothing to go back to.”

His best friend was gone.

Victor didn’t love him.

And even if he did… Yuuri wasn’t sure he could face him anyway. After being offered money, drink, sex, and favours by the officers - things that Yuuri had been all too willing to take from Victor as his Captain - Yuuri wasn’t sure how he could face Victor again, knowing how little such things meant to men in the Interior, in Victor’s world. Was that all Yuuri was to Victor?

He still hadn’t written, hadn’t called on him. It hurt, knowing Victor could reach out so easily to Yuuri just to see how he was… and he didn’t.

He’d just abandoned him.

“Did you know a Yuri Plisetsky?”

The question threw him off guard.

Yuri Plisetsky… a name from a time that Yuuri would rather leave behind, days tarnished and painful. He frowned, watching Altin through his eyelashes.

“I knew of him,” he said stiffly.

It was only then he noticed the white clench of Altin’s knuckles around his book, pages creasing under his touch. “Is he alive? After...”

_After Trost._

He didn’t need to say it.

Yuuri’s frown still didn’t smooth out.

He didn’t know. He hadn’t seen any trace of Plisetsky neither when he’d gotten to Trost nor when he’d left it, not a single sign that the boy was dead or alive. Yuuri didn’t know for sure… but he’d be amazed if anything would be able to kill that blonde ball of fury but the devil himself, and even then...

“Yes,” he said, sure. “He’s alive.”

He wasn’t sure what he expected. A smile, a laugh - a frown, even, a curse. Plisetksy’s prickly personality didn’t get him liked by everyone, after all.

When he hadn’t expected though, was nothing.

Altin just nodded, eyes glassed over like he’d never even heard Yuuri were it not for the tip of his head. That was all he gave. No smile. No shine. No, nothing...

“He’s a friend?” Yuuri prompted, tilting his head curiously.

Altin turned a page in his book.

“No.”

Yuuri just arched an eyebrow. “Relative?” They didn’t look anything alike, but … Yuuri wanted to know now.

He didn’t look away, his sister’s letter all but forgotten in his hand as he stared Altin down, waiting and waiting… until finally, those dark, mysterious eyes flickered up and caught his, flashing with something that Yuuri couldn’t read. It was the most life he’d seen in the guy so far though.

Otabek sighed, book dipping in his hand. “I saw him when I was a cadet,” he said, voice strained like every word was one too many he’d like to have said. “A few years above me in class even though he was years younger. I always saw him. He was hard to miss.”

Yuuri tipped his head in agreement - if it wasn’t the kids scarily accurate instincts, his ridiculous drive to stay alive, or his loud mouth, Plisetsky was unignorable.

“He kept me going,” Altin went on. “Just when I thought I couldn’t do anymore, when I thought I didn’t have any strength left, he’d always be there, giving five times more than me even though it was obviously killing him. It was something about his eyes… the eyes of a soldier...”

Yuuri knew exactly what he meant.

Otabek’s own eyes glowed across the table, misty with memory. The recruit swallowed thickly, Adam’s apple bobbing. He couldn’t hold Yuuri’s eye, looking everywhere else but at him.

“But I never knew him,” he finally spat out, voice tense. _Bitter_. His knuckles clenched again. “He doesn’t even know I exist.”

Yuuri’s heart twanged, and he let his eyes fall away too, following the crease in Mari’s letter as his thumb traced the thin line. He got it. He’d felt exactly the same about Victor, letting the image of the men drive him on through the hardship, inspire him to find strength he didn’t know he had, to keep fighting for his sake. If Yuuri was honest with himself, he’d been in love with Victor long before the Captain had ever taken him to bed, long before they’d ever even spoken.

“You still care about him,” Yuuri said.

It wasn’t a question.

The way Altin looked away gave his answer for him though.

 

* * *

 

Yuuri’s teeth ground down into his lower lip, eyes scrunched shut, and skin sparkling with electricity, thoughts flying to … well, _everything._

His hand moved furiously inside his underwear, tight fist working over his shaft hard and fast - the way Victor always liked it, the way it would have the Captain’s eyes rolling back in his skull and head thrown back with pleasure.

Yuuri was starting to understand the appeal.

He thought of Victor.

After three weeks, it had finally gotten to him. It had been a month since he’d had sex, since he’d so much as jerked off by himself nevermind have Victor - or anybody, he quickly reminded himself - fucking him into the mattress. But when his mind wandered, it wasn’t just anybody that he saw to get him in the mood. It wasn’t a faceless hot body, or some imaginary soldier desperate for him - it was bright blue eyes like molten crystal, swirling with want and need behind silver fanning eyelashes.

Yuuri’s head tipped back into his pillow, back arching up off the mattress and hips shifting up to thrust into his own hand.

He knew how Victor would do it if he was here. He always touched with firm, strong strokes, sure and confident of himself. His thumb would brush over Yuuri’s tip, swirling the precum over his tip with a self satisfied smirk, dragging the moisture down over his stiff erection. Victor always knew exactly what he was doing.

A groan slipped out of Yuuri’s lips, feeling his cock twitch in his hand at the thought of his former Captain.

Maybe Victor wouldn’t jerk him off though. Maybe he would suck him instead - like all those times in the shower, over his desk, in his bed - pink lips stretched tight around Yuuri’s cock while those pretty blue eyes blinked up at him hungrily from between his thighs.

Yuuri’s fingers tightened around himself, toes curling into the sheets at the end of the bed. Victor always liked that, Yuuri remembered. He always looked for those tell tale little signs that Yuuri was desperate and on the edge, always knew exactly what to do to know how he felt without having to ask. He always checked, whether when they were making out, when he was opening Yuuri up, when he was balls deep in Yuuri-

Yuuri whimpered as his orgasm washed over him and white spilled over his fingers, pleasure a slow creeping warmth that swept over him slower and gentler than he expected. His body trembled, glistening with a thin sheen of sweat.

It took a moment for him to catch his breath, feeling his release cool stickily over his fingers. He didn’t pull away though. Not yet…

VIctor wouldn’t.

Victor would just lie there, staring, basking in the moment. He might even draw lazily patterns in Yuuri’s skin through his release, spreading the mess that was so wrong and yet so, so right.

Yuuri swallowed thickly, blinking fast to clear the heat pricking behind his eyes. He yanked his hand out of his underwear, hissing at the sharp tug of his congealed cum catching on his skin and hair. He deserved it, letting the pain wash over him, feeling the burn on his skin.

It was nothing compared to the burn in the left side of his chest though, rib cage tight and unforgiving.

He’d still not heard anything - not from Victor, nor from the recruits. Nothing. Not a word. He tried to take it as a good sign, as a relief. After all, no news was good news; if something happened to Victor - if humanity’s strongest soldier fell - everyone would know. Everyone would be talking about it.

Nobody had said anything.

 _No news was good news,_ Yuuri repeated to himself, wishing he could be more convincing in actually believing it.

 

* * *

 

Yuuri wished he could be anywhere else. Literally, anywhere. But huddled in the courtyard with the rest of the cadets while the other idiots complained about an assignment one loud mouth had landed them all to organise… yeah, Yuuri was stuck there instead.

“Did you hear what they’re bringing up from the wall?” one of the idiots said.

“That good for nothing kid?”

“What’s so special about him again?”

“He’s a freak, that’s what.”

“Well, duh, I mean, he’s in the _scouts_.”

Yuuri’s eyes flickered up, catching Otabek’s. A short jerk of the head from the recruit should have been enough warning, urging him to keep his nose out of it…

He’d heard about the kid - the same kid that somehow managed to plug the hole in the wall in Trost fresh out of cadet training with some scientific experimentation and - from what Yuuri had heard at least - a freakishly strong drive to survive. Yuuri didn’t know how, didn’t care. He’d had bigger things on his mind at the time, other things to worry about wondering if he’d ever see Victor again...

His hands curled into fists at the thought, remembering with sickening clarity the dread that had sat heavy in his stomach the whole journey back, horrific possibilities fleeting through his brain with every step.

“The scouts have always been trouble though,” someone else said, voice thick with bitter contempt. The rest murmured in agreement.

Yuuri’s fingers clenched so tight his knuckles cracked.

“Head down, Yuuri,” Altin growled.

Yuuri caught Otabek’s hand twice beside him, moving to his belt - to his rifle, leant against his hip where they sat. He thought Yuuri was going to start something? Something that might require firepower to back them up?

He couldn’t say he was surprised though - the anger coursing through Yuuri’s veins was beyond rational reason, beyond any logic. It was pure disdain, pure, wild contempt that burned hot and uncontrollable through him, simmering to the surface of his skin so much he was amazed there wasn’t smoke rising through his pores. Otabek was right to be wary. Yuuri could be brave when he had nothing to lose - and stupid. Desperately stupid.

… but so were the military police to insult the scouts in front of him.

“You have no idea what it’s like.”

It took him a minute to realise the words had come out of _his_ mouth, that the voice he was hearing - laced with venom and contempt - was _his_ voice.

When he did realise though, he quickly joined it with the scraping of his chair legs on the floor as he stood up sharply, squeal cutting through the stunned silence. He could feel it - everyone looking at him, _staring_ at him.

What was he doing?

He didn’t stop though.

“You have no idea what the scouts go through,” he spat out, every word burning hot in his chest like to hold it in would sink him, scorch a hole through his lungs if it went unsaid.

It had to be said though. The idiots in the Interior had to know, had to have someone to tell them that the world beyond Wall Sina wasn’t the world they knew, that every day they had to laugh and drink was paid for by scout blood, by scout _lives._ They didn’t have a clue. They didn’t have any idea because they didn’t want too.

He could feel the air thicken around him, tension settling around the courtyard. Yuuri didn’t care, basking in the awkwardness. If it was awkward, it meant he had struck a nerve.

After all, an insult to the Scouts was an insult to Victor.

“What are you talking about, Katsuki?” someone finally growled, their voice just as bitter as Yuuri’s.

Yuuri didn’t dare look to see who it was. With the way his fists already trembled at his sides, he didn’t trust himself or what he might do if he confronted whoever said it head on. Victor had pulled a lot of strings to get him there; it wouldn’t do to get sent back to the scouts for brawling with another cadet.

Teaching them a lesson though… yeah, Yuuri could do that.

His face angled away, clinging to the lingering threads of his patience. The thin line of his scowling mouth circled his _comrades._

“What have the scouts ever done for us?” one of them said. Yuuri didn’t miss it this time, eyes narrowing at a dark haired boy he didn’t recognise that glared back just as brutal. “All they do is spend our money, eat our food, and cause more work for us when they make mayhem at the walls like with Wall Maria. Do you have any idea how many refugees were displaced for us to deal wit-”

“Do you have any idea how many people _died_?!” Yuuri hissed back.

Nobody dared disagree with him.

Heads hung. Mouths shut. Only Otabek dared peek at Yuuri out of the corner of his eye, but even he looked guilty to some degree.

Yuuri didn’t linger on it, head shaking at the worst of them instead, at their sheer _audacity_ to complain about their extra work while scores of people had lost their lives. Yuuri had nearly been one of them. A month ago - at Trost - Phichit _had_ been one of them. Who new - in another month, maybe Victor would be too. There was no way of knowing, no safety net with the scouts…

Yuuri’s head just shook at the dark haired boy, teeth gritting bitterly. “You’re not even worth it,” he realised aloud.

He wanted to hate them.

He wanted to punch them until they stopped moving, scream until his lungs bled - anything that would make him feel better! But the more he looked into the grim disdain in the dark haired boy’s eyes, the more he just felt _sorry_ for him. He couldn’t even shoot the rifle in his hands straight, couldn’t fight, couldn’t even tackle Yuuri down now if he decided to go for him. He really _wasn’t_ worth it.

But Yuuri had seen it twice for himself now - the walls wouldn’t hold forever. And when Wall Sina didn’t… then the guy would be more than sorry.

For now though, he just scowled.

And he wasn’t the only one.

Twisted faces surrounded him, scrunched up in distaste or disgust at whatever Yuuri’s words had stirred inside their heads - it didn’t matter. None of them were remorseful, none of them sorry...

Yuuri’s head just shook.

“You don’t have a _fucking_ clue...” he growled under his breath, chair legs squealing against the floor as he stood up suddenly. “You don’t get a fucking thing…”

He kicked a chair out of his way, something inside him growling at the satisfying crunch and catching some of the cadet’s jump out of the corner of his eye. He didn’t even bother with one last glare before he stalked off, leaving them to their trivial afternoon. It didn’t matter. They didn’t understand. They never would because they didn’t want to, because they didn’t have to.

Yuuri would never be one of them.

He didn’t belong in that world.

 

* * *

 

It didn’t get better.

A week later and Yuuri was still a tea boy, still in the officer’s parlour, waiting and serving. At least after the last incident with Fischer, the officer’s had learned to keep their hands to themselves though, barely even acknowledging Yuuri’s existence as he slipped in and out of the room as quietly as a ghost. They rarely spoke to him now, letting him get on with his business.

Until one day, where he was just gathering the used cups and saucers back on the tea tray to take out, when -

“That’s enough now, Yuuri.”

Yuuri’s fingers froze.

It was the first time anybody had spoken to him directly in three days.

He glanced up in surprise more than anything else – not recognising the voice that had called him, nor the grim faced officer that eyed him from behind his newspaper, casting him a dark glare over the literature. He was reclined back in his chair, a distinct sobriety to his expression. Why wasn’t he drinking with the others?

It wasn’t his place to ask – but his frown furrowed in confusion all the same; they couldn’t stop him from wondering though.

The officer’s head jerked. “Go help the others.”

“Others, sir?” Yuuri swallowed thickly.

“The convoy,” the officer said, turning a page in his paper with a dull eye. “God knows, those idiots need a guy like you to keep them in line, _especially_ around the scouts.”

 _Right_ … it was the day the scouts were coming through Stohess, the escort mission the cadets had been planning the week before –the one Yuuri had stormed out of. He shut his mouth quickly, nodding once. Even drunk and lazy, an officer was still an officer. And an order was an order.

Yuuri had no choice but to nod. “Sir.”

So he left.

The streets were quiet. Unnaturally so. There wasn’t even the odd stroller when Yuuri stalked the streets around the city centre, trying to find the escort party. At first, he’d thought it was a good sign – perhaps the streets had been evacuated for the escort. He must be close. The more he walked though, the more he wasn’t so sure.

The sun beat down on him from above. It was another warm day, sun bright and skies clear, the tiniest breeze whistling through the air. The city was so quiet Yuuri could hear it.

The thought made him frown.

Something wasn’t right.

He didn’t know who they were escorting. He didn’t know the details of the transport. Hell - he didn’t even know where they _were_ in the city thanks to him walking off the week before in the middle of planning, but this didn’t feel like _it_. The cadet’s he knew weren’t so serious, wouldn’t have such a tight operation – and if this was the convoy route, where was the police escort?

It was _too_ quiet.

Yuuri stopped.

He paused by the clearing for the centre of the city where the church sat surrounded by carefully pruned gardens of green around it, granting a clear view of the surrounding streets from the very edge of the one he stood at. Each one was deserted, empty. There wasn’t a soul in sight anywhere. He stared around, eyes narrowed and wary; something was wrong. It had to be.

The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end in anticipation and his skin crawled, unsettled. His hand reached for his rifle, comforted just by having it clos-

The city shook.

Yuuri didn’t get any warning before the world rocked and lightning split the sky - right through the middle of the city - deadly and precise. Yuuri only just kept his footing, brain still rattling with confusion when he looked up, breath frozen in his lungs.

A Titan rose above the rooftops.

A _Titan!_

Blonde, feminine figured, smoke and steam rising around it in deadly curls through the summer air, distant screams in the background of the city behind it. It was a Titan… inside the walls…

Humanity was dead.

That was Yuuri’s first thought, his mouth hanging open and his knees going weak beneath him. He heard his breaths rattle out of his lungs, paired with a noise that barely sounded human but Yuuri knew it had to be - because it had come from him, feeling his lips part around the sound like a wounded animal.

It hurt. Something hurt. Everything hurt. His chest felt like it was being ripped apart and his eyes burned but Yuuri knew there was no wound if he dared look, no blood. But it hurt all the same, panic and fear hurting worse than any wound ever could...

Because if Titans were inside Wall Sina then it was over. They were all dead, everyone. Nobody was safe.

He hadn’t heard the wall get breached. He hadn’t seen the Colossal Titan appear over the wall edge or hear the blast of a breach being kicked in through the stone. What had happened? How? If Wall Sina was breached then Wall Rose had to be gone too, defences so broken they hadn’t even been able to send word ahead of the impending doom. What did that mean? That everyone was dead?

… was Victor dead too?

Yuuri wasn’t sure how long he stood there in the middle of the street, staring at nothing through the end of the world. He couldn’t move, frozen with horror.

Movement swang through his vision, but Yuuri couldn’t focus on it to make any sense of anything. Soldiers on ODM gear were swatted like flies. Thundering footsteps shook the city as Titan ran through the streets – _ran!_ Titan’s never ran. Not normal ones; they never needed to. More dust threw into the air, more plumes of destruction – and screams. More screaming. It was like Shiganshina all over again…

And when lightning struck a few streets away and shook the world a second time, Yuuri let himself be thrown down with it.

He dropped like a doll - slapping down bonelessly onto the cobbled streets and staring at the pavement below his splayed fingers with wide eyes, numb and cold despite the sun still high in the sky. He barely felt anything, frozen with fear.

Then he saw the shadow.

He hadn’t noticed it before, crawling out from the church’s vast courtyard behind him and darkening the edge of the street he lay in, shrouding him from the sun’s light. It was huge - bigger than a man, bigger than any human.

Yuuri turned before he could stop himself, pushing up onto his knees and twisting over his shoulder. Fear curled cold in his belly, thick and _knowing_.

The Female Titan stood there in the courtyard, tall, strong, and staring at Yuuri over her shoulder.

Yuuri forgot how to breathe.

The Titan was towering. It stood taller than the tallest steeple of the already tall church, body lean and toned with power and strength, muscles wrapped around the Titan bones with no covering skin to hide them - just like the Colossal Titan, all over again. As if it needed any more help to be able to kill Yuuri. One swipe - one step! - and he would be dead.

Yuuri just stared, frozen kneeling too frightened to move, to draw attention to himself. He didn’t have the strength to run if she saw him, if her eyes left the rooftops further into the city where the second bolt of lightning had struck...

She didn’t move though, didn’t make any notion of acknowledging him.

Like he wasn’t even there.

But then a deafening roar, a crash - and towering movement out of the corner of his eye later - and Yuuri didn’t have time to draw his next breath.

_Another Titan!_

All he glimpsed was dark hair and wild, rampaging limbs - before pain slammed into him from behind and the world went off kilter.

What little air was in his lungs was knocked out. Black spots dotted the edge of his vision. Yuuri’s stomach turned as the world span and bile clawed up his throat as his body went light like it was spinning through the air, tight pressure around his middle the only draw keeping him conscious through the dizziness. Yuuri clung to it - literally! His fingers dug into the mass around his arm, thin material sliding over something smooth underneath, almost like-

Yuuri’s eyes popped wide.

Like an arm.

A crash echoed in his ears, colossal and matched with an ungodly scream unlike any Titan Yuuri had ever heard before. It shrieked, rattling his brain inside his head until he was screaming too, eyes bulging from his skull and pain bursting like stars in his brain.

Through the confusion, he just about made sense of the church collapsing in the city square, crushed under the weight of the falling Female Titan sprawled over it.

Yuuri pressed his eyes shut.

He didn’t want to see anymore.

He was dead, he reasoned. Or dying. He’d been hit, kicked, crushed with rubble, or the ground had given way - something that must have killed him and some angel was carrying him off to the next life, dragging him away. He was flying, after all. Yuuri recognised the sensation rippling through his body from the years of ODM gear training, recognised the feeling of soaring through the air, light and effortless.

It would be over soon at least, pain pulsing behind his eyes…

“Yuuri!”

His eyes snapped open again.

_Victor?_

The air had barely gasped back into his lungs before his body hitched in the air and suddenly the flying sensation morphed into something else, something Yuuri recognised just as well as the pressure around his waist - Victor’s arm! - went slack.

 _Falling_.

He was too stunned to feel anything as he dropped through the air, short and sudden as the clutching fingers grasping at his belly slipped away with a shout and he crashed into the pavement below, barely conscious for his heart to even skip a beat at the realisation.

He slapped into the pavement with a sickening crunch, skin tearing under his clothes from the impact. He barely felt the skin over his cheek graze as he smashed to the ground or the rattle of his teeth in his skull - as soon as he heard the thud and the cry of pain ahead of him that sounded _so very Victor_ , he was lost to everything else. He groaned as he pushed up on his bloodied hands, every inch of his body crying out in protest.

Yuuri didn’t care, forcing his head to tilt up. His body shook. His fingers trembled. He tasted blood dribbling out of the corner of his mouth and heard ringing in his ears - head rattled - but he didn’t care.

He just had to find Victor.

The Captain lay slumped further down the street, broken cords of his ODM gear strewn around him and still picking himself up with pained groans, hand clutched to his shoulder.

Yuuri’s legs pushed - and he slapped back to the ground again as they gave out beneath him, shoulder hitting the ground hard. He bit back a cry of pain, shooting down his arm like razor-barbed lightning. His forehead rolled into the pavement, gritting his teeth together hard.

He was still piecing everything together, trying to make sense of what had happened. The street behind him - the street he had been stood in was gone - he saw out of the corner of his eye, a chunk of the building he’d been standing in front of not seconds before chipped out and crashed into the pavement below. The Titan’s heel must have caught it, he guessed.

And Victor…

Victor had swooped in on his ODM gear and saved him?

Yuuri’s fists clenched against the blood spattered pavement, nails biting against the stone as the feeling slowly came back to his legs.

The world behind him crashed and exploded, filled with sounds Yuuri didn’t want to linger on. Behind the monsters were screams. Civilian screams. Innocent people, hurt and dying while there was nothing he could do to stop it. If Titans were inside the walls, they were all dead anyway. There was no escape.

He crawled his way forward, gritting his teeth against the jolts of pain burning up his arm and down his knee as he went. He had to get to Victor.

Visions of dirt stained silver hair bowed in front of him, unmistakable long legs sprawled out on the pavement, and Yuuri felt tears sting behind his eyes as he caught those sharp, pale cheekbones turn back, gasp choking in his throat. He’d been all prepared to hate Victor when he saw him again for what he did, for sending him away, for not writing, for everything… but one look at Victor’s face all scrunched up in pain and all Yuuri could think of was taking him in his arms and holding onto him like his life depended on it.

“Victor...”

The air burned at Yuuri’s throat but Victor’s name sounded so good coming from his lips, tears running freely down his face when he realised how _long_ he’d gone without saying it.

Victor looked okay. He was hunched over, pushed up on his knees and face twisted in a grimace as his fingers dug into his shoulder, but he was okay. Yuuri’s eyes flickered with hope, boot getting enough traction on the pavement to actually push himself up to his feet. His knees shook, but held. He was running in seconds, closing the gap.

A smile of gratitude flickered on his face as Victor’s eyes opened, the same piercing blue as he remembered. “Victor!”

Victor still hadn’t moved, holding his arm.

That was okay. A broken arm could be fixed, a dislocated shoulder - he was alive, he was okay; that was what mattered. Yuuri honed in on it as he got closer, looking for the trace of blood on the sleeve, the mangled angle of twisted bone, or-

Yuuri stammered to a stop, frozen where he stood. A gasp shot down his windpipe, eyes popping wide. “Y-your arm…”

It was gone.

Close up, Yuuri could see. Victor’s fingers were firm around the stump of his shoulder, but beyond that was just an empty sleeve, pin from where it had tucked it against the rest of his shirt fallen out for it to hang freely, obviously. Only there was no arm to fill it, limb just… gone.

Yuuri couldn’t breathe. He felt his knees start to tremble beneath him again, praying he didn’t fall but too horrified to care if he did.

Victor had lost an arm.

There was no blood, Yuuri rationed. No blood, and no howl of pain from Victor from if it was fresh, if the Titan had just ripped it off in the tangle a moment ago.

Victor’s mouth just curved in a sad smile, one that sparked a wet glitter in his eyes. It washed the last of the pain away - at least, the surface pain anyway. The deeper hurt - the hurt Yuuri had felt too for the last month - was still painfully bare to see.

“Was looking out for my left,” Victor croaked with a small shrug. It only drew Yuuri’s eye to the stump of his right arm even more, nausea turning his gut. Victor’s left - where Yuuri and Chris had always covered him before… before _everything_. Victor swallowed thickly, Adam’s apple bobbing. “I forgot my right.”

Yuuri pressed his eyes shut.

_What had he done?_

He never should have left.

Guilt swamped him in a heartbeat, feeling his legs finally give up holding him upright and crying out dully as his knees hit the pavement, sound wrenched from his chest. The jolt in his knees was nothing compared to the burn of regret in his heart though.

He should have been there. Whenever it had happened, wherever it had happened, Yuuri should have been there with Victor, covering him, protecting him.

The fact that he wasn’t had cost Victor his right arm.

Yuuri jolted as he threw up, stomach emptying onto the street the more it dawned on him. He couldn’t imagine the pain, the fear Victor must have felt when he’d gotten hurt. Nobody would have been there to comfort him - nobody that mattered at least. Yuuri had been gone, and Chris was dead. He must have been in so much pain while he’d crawled back to the walls, while he’d recovered...

It explained why Victor never wrote - he was right handed. And how could he have possibly explained it in a letter? Yuuri knew. It would have been impossible, just imagining Victor choking back the pain as he’d tried to put it into words the same way Yuuri had over and over again.

They were hopeless, Yuuri realised with a bitter sob. They really did deserve each other, just as bad as the other…

A hand clamped down on his shoulder, fingers digging into his flesh tight like Victor was checking he was real. Yuuri just relished the contact, more tears streaming down his face as he memorised every touch and grove of Victor’s fingers through his jacket.

“You need to get out of here.”

Victor’s voice was soft, gentle - frighteningly so. How was he so calm? The world was ending, Titan’s were inside the walls, and Victor’s voice was soft like it was sighing Yuuri to sleep.

Yuuri’s head just shook, tears flickering off his eyelashes. “I’m not going.”

“Yuuri…”

“I’m not going!”

Yuuri snapped his head up, blinking fast through his tears until he could match Victor’s pleading gaze with pure, dangerous determination. There was nothing Victor could say. Yuuri’s mind was made up.

“I won’t leave you again,” he said through gritted teeth, fists curling at his sides at odds with the water he blinked away from his eyes. “I won’t…”

He wouldn’t let Victor out of his sight again.

He couldn’t...

He watched a myriad of emotions flicker through Victor’s sparkling eyes, crystal blue fighting with sea green. Relief, dread, fear, pain… it was all there for Yuuri to see, feeling Victor’s fingers clutch tighter at his shoulder. Yuuri knew what he was thinking, what he was imagining, weighing up the risks like only Victor could.

There was no question in Yuuri’s mind though, not even a flicker of doubt. He reached up - and slid his fingers gentle over Victor’s.

“I’m with you,” he said, holding Victor’s eye.

Victor’s eyes blinked a fraction wider, swallowing thickly. His eyes glittered, a sadness there that Yuuri didn’t even bother trying to decipher … and he nodded.

 

* * *

 

Yuuri didn’t have any gear. All the military had were those stupid rifles - useless against a Titan - and Yuuri long cast his way as Victor led him through the city to the convoy, where countless military police cadets stood with white faces and terrified expressions. They all wore ODM gear, all still plastered to the ground like it meant nothing to them. It didn’t, Yuuri knew. They didn’t have a clue what they were doing.

He didn’t stop to help them as Victor handed him a set, strapping it on with practised efficiency that he still remembered from the scouts. It felt like coming home, gear sitting more comfortably on his body than the military police badge ever could.

And Victor explained everything.

“They’re not Titans?” Yuuri asked as he clicked his gear in place, checking everything. “Like, real Titans?”

Victor’s head just titled to the side, face scrunching. “It’s hard to explain.”

The Titan that had plugged the hole in the wall in Trost was the same Titan that had nearly crushed Yuuri under its heel as it had tackled the blonde Titan into the church, Victor had told him. It was crazy, but Victor was okay with it. The walls hadn’t been breached, no Titan’s from outside the walls had gotten in. The world wasn’t over. Humanity wasn’t dead. And all this - all the chaos and mania from the survey corps convoy that was destroying the city - it was all a controlled operation to capture the blonde Titan.

Yuuri tried to wrap his mind around the fact as he strapped up, gear sitting weighty and familiar over his body - they were working _with_ the dark haired Titan. It was insane.

“Erwin’s got a plan,” Victor just said, tugging the straps of his gear one last time, testing it. It held strong. The empty sleeve of his right arm had been tucked into a strap across his chest, the gap at his side still impossible for Yuuri to get used to. “If your new bosses don’t shoot him for it first.”

_What?_

Alarm flashed in Yuuri’s mind, but he didn’t have time to linger on it - not before Victor’s gear was anchoring in the side of a building and pulling him up off the ground to the rooftop.

Yuuri followed.

“So…” he started the moment his boots touched the roof. “Is this legal?” It didn’t sound it, if Commander Erwin had a gun on him. It almost sounded like -

“ _‘Treason’_ is the official term I’m sure the MP’s will use.”

Yuuri stiffened.

Victor didn’t flinch from scouring over the city, a plume of dust a few streets away catching his eye as it spewed up into the air. His mouth thinned, downturning in the corner.

His eyes were dark when they flickered sideways and caught Yuuri’s gaze. “We didn’t have a choice.”

Yuuri just stared.

He didn’t know what Victor meant. He didn’t have a clue about the operation from either side, military police or scout, but he knew which side he wanted to be on regardless on whether it merited a firing squad execution at the end of it. Victor was a good man. Victor was _Yuuri’s_ man. Yuuri would follow him to death this time, whether it came now or later.

He swallowed thickly, praying he was making the right choice as he followed Victor’s gaze to the city. It was already in a dire state, distant screams still shrill in the air.

“So what’s the plan?” he asked.

A nerve in Victor’s jaw twitched. “We can’t stop them. Yeager - the dark haired Titan - he’s the only hope of bringing the Female Titan down and the Section Commander has back up plans rigged already. At this point, we’d only get in the way...”

The scouts were really working with a Titan. It went against everything they’d been trained to think, to believe… he shoved down the impulse.

“So what do we do?” he just asked instead, forcing his mind back to the mission.

_They couldn’t just sit there._

“We do what we do best,” Victor said, voice firm with conviction as he looked across and caught Yuuri’s eye. The eyes of a Captain stared back at him. “We save humanity.”

Yuuri hadn’t noticed Victor’s hand reached for his, didn’t see it until Victor’s fingers carefully laced through his and squeezed.

He didn’t he hesitate to squeeze back.

 

* * *

 

The breath caught in Yuuri’s lungs with every sweep through the air, knocked clean out of his chest every time he slammed into someone, pushed them, tugged on their shirt to get them out of the way of the Titan’s crashing through the city and the devastation they left in their wake. They raced ahead of the monsters, running alongside their ankles to reach the fleeing public first.

They couldn’t save everyone. Blood still stained the pavement, bodies littering the streets with every rampaging step through the city…

But they _tried_.

The wind soared through Yuuri’s hair and his fingers tangled with Victor’s, swinging the Captain in the opposite direction towards a woman frozen in the middle of the collapsing street in the wake of the Titan’s, her child clutched close. Victor pulled on her dress just in time to yank her out of the way of the falling rubble, saving her by a heartbeat.

They worked in tandem, just _knowing_ where the other was going, reading their movements like it was second nature. Yuuri watched Victor’s back like it was his own, following his lead with the slightest twitch. It was where he belonged, feeling the years of his training flooding back to him with every swing. He felt at home in his ODM gear, at Victor’s side. If he was going to die today, that was how he wanted to spend his last moments – with Victor, free.

“Yuuri!”

Yuuri twisted in the air, turning the second he heard his name rising on Victor’s voice. He turned just in time to see the Captain hurtle down a ruined street, disappearing round a corner.

Yuuri followed in a heartbeat.

The street was all but empty - nobody running, nobody screaming - just a litter of fallen rubble and bodies that had gotten hopelessly caught in the fallout. Victor dropped out of the air down to one of them, dropping to his knees. All Yuuri saw was a pile of rocks sticking up out of the jagged pavement, stained red…

“Victor…”

It was another moment before he saw the man’s torso poking out of the top of the pile. Yuuri’s heart sank - the man looked white as a sheet, his chest still.

Victor clawed at the rocks though, desperately moving them aside like his life depended on it. Something akin to pain stretched tight over his features, eyes dangerously unfocused. Yuuri frowned, dropping down to one knee beside the body – it wasn’t like Victor to crack his composure like that.

He didn’t touch the rocks himself, watching with a clench in his heart as Victor’s fingertips snagged and bled from attacking them. He knew it was useless.

“We can’t keep doing this,” he said quietly.

Victor looked up from the body, eyes sharpening into a narrow-eyed glare. “We don’t have a choice.” He all but spat out the words, a nerve in his jaw twitching.

Yuuri’s head just shook, heat pricking behind his eyes.

“We can’t…”

He got it. He really did – they were trying so hard to save people, but still for every person they saved two more were killed by buildings collapsing, the Titans – they couldn’t save everyone. And Yuuri knew how every lost person weighed on Victor’s conscience just like every fallen scout that had fallen under his command. They scarred Victor, the guilt palpable and drowning…

His eyes dropped down to the man in front of them, Victor’s knuckles white from trying to free him. Dust stained the man’s jacket, greyed his dark, neat hair and paled his already white face.

He still wasn’t moving though.

Yuuri’s heart pulled. “Victor … he’s dead.”

It was cruel to keep trying; cruel to the man, cruel to Victor, and cruel to the people elsewhere in the city that still needed their help.

But Yuuri wasn’t prepared for the water swimming in Victor’s eyes when the Captain looked up, aquamarine irises glistening and lip almost quivering. Victor looked terrified, hands shaking over the man’s jacket. Terrified and… angry.

“ _Please,”_ he hissed through his teeth, battling the tears misting his bitterly determined gaze. “You don’t understand…”

“Victor…”

He had to understand – the man was dead. Nothing could bring him back, but every second that Victor wasted in guilt and regret cost countless others their lives too. Victor had to know that. He’d buried his pain under than knowledge for years to carry on, to save the next soldier instead, to save Yuuri … why couldn’t he for this one man?

Victor just glared at him, gaze fierce.

Yuuri had seen that same determination from Victor, the Captain in the field, making the hard calls while his men were slaughtered.

But he wore that look now with the vulnerability of Victor, the man - with pleading and desperation behind his gaze, hands trembling in a way a Captain would never allow. It was an odd blend, the two men clashing together in a messy haze. It left Yuuri speechless, staring with a furrowed brow and an open mouth. He wasn’t sure if he should salute Victor, or hug him…

“Victor…”

Yuuri just stared.

He didn’t know what else to do, eyes falling down to the body between them, following Victor’s watery gaze.

Suddenly, Yuuri started to notice; the straight, narrow nose, the angle of the man’s jaw, his high set cheekbones and the smattering of freckles over his deathly pale cheeks - exactly where Victor’s was. Under the dust, the man’s dark hair was tipped with silver on the ends – a perfect match to Victor’s delicate shade.

Yuuri frowned, cogs of his brain starting to whir. It couldn’t be…

Victor’s hand stilled over the body, resting on the still unmoving chest. His mouth open, words caught in his throat.

“Yuuri, he-”

The world exploded before he could finish.

Yuuri didn’t know what had happened – one moment he was watching Victor, and the next the world was engulfed in blinding dust, pavement falling away beneath his knees, and Yuuri sent flying by a blast of steaming air, scorching his face. He heard a crash, echoing deafeningly in his ears. It was knocked right out of his brain though as he was thrown back on the street like a rag doll, broken tiles of the pavement jarring into his spine and shoulder. Pain twisted at the joint, knocking the breath out of him.

He gasped for air – and coughed as smoke and brick dust filled his lungs instead, choking him from the inside out and making his eyes water.

His chest screamed – begging for oxygen – and Yuuri surrendered to the coughs racking through him. Everything hurt; his back, his head - blood running hot down his forehead as he forced himself upright again - and above all, his shoulder.

He could feel the pain long before he touched it, flinching away from his own fingers like they burned. They did - pain flared hot and instant down his arm the second he touched the swollen mass of his shoulder, only to find the hard lump of dislocated bone that didn’t belong there. His arm twitched, sending shoots of agony down the joint. Yuuri bit back a cry, feeling blood tang on his tongue as his teeth split his lip.

Not broken, he thought, eyes watering and arm hanging limp and useless at his side. There was no snap, no broken bone - just dislocated. He still couldn’t move his arm though, still useless.

He looked up with a whimper, eyes watering. “Victor?”

Where _was_ Victor?

Yuuri couldn’t see him, dust still stinging his eyes and the large crack running through the lens in his glasses only making it worse. He yanked them off, world going even foggier around him.

He blinked through it, feeling tears carve tracks in the dirt staining his cheeks, desperate for any trace of Victor. If Yuuri had a dislocated shoulder, what might Victor have? He’d been right there - just a few feet in front of Yuuri half a second ago! He had to be close. Yuuri’s eyes squinted, peering forward through the slowly clearing dust cloud and-

They shot wide in a heartbeat.

Titan eyes stared back at him a handful of meters away, wide, huge and sightless. Eyes lodged in a severed Titan head.

The Female Titan.

Short blond hair still framed the face, eyes blown wide with fear and shock in their last connecting moments with its body. The side of its head was buried deep into the half collapsed building, sitting on a bed of rubble that had once been the street.

The street was gone.

Yuuri saw it the more the dust cleared. It had caved in under the impact, bricks and framework churned up and dislodged, a mess collapsed into the space of the tunnels running underneath the city. Broken brick, shattered pavement, and shorn off scaffolding beams stirred up from the broken tunnels, the world tipped over in oblivion. It was all gone. The body was gone. Victor was gone.

For a moment, Yuuri didn’t see anything of his Captain. There was nothing but shattered pavement tiles and clearing brown dust, dark grey of the tunnel framework twisted up into the outside world. Victor didn’t see the brown of Victor’s jacket at first, nor the silver of his hair…

The only colour he did see of his Captain – picked out through the rubble as the world stilled – was red.

“Victor!”

Yuuri didn’t remember deciding to run – his shoulder be damned – drawn to the red staining through the dull dust cloud like a man possessed. It was all he could see – literally! Victor’s hair, and face, and clothes were darkened grey from the dust cloud, the crimson of his blood the only thing calling through the chaos to show he was there at all, to show he was still alive.

 _Barely_.

Yuuri slipped down the jagged slope to the caved in tunnels, to the pit of rock that mangled with Victor. He didn’t look where he was going, didn’t see the jerk of the metal pipe spiking up out of the ground – not until he tripped right over it, sprawling down his hands and knees into the hole. Brick grazed his palm, searing open new cuts and spilling fresh blood – and something twanged in his ankle, sending a numbness that Yuuri knew should be agonising ricocheting down his foot.

It was shock, he told himself as he crawled forward anyway, fingernails digging into the rock and brick. Shock stopped him feeling the pain – for now.

He didn’t care about himself though, gaze honing in on the largest patch of red that called for his attention.

“Oh God…”

His eyes grazed over his Captain - and all he saw was red. So much red. _Too_ much red. A wall fragment crushed the stump of his right arm and the far side of his ribcage – the flash of white bone sickening Yuuri more than he could have imagined – and Yuuri couldn’t see his left leg for all the rubble that rushed it, blood trickling back over his eyes and forehead into his hairline where it dribbled from his nose.

That wasn’t the worst of it though – no, the worst was the metal spikes protruding from Victor’s chest, spilling crimson all over his torso.

Yuuri couldn’t help but stare.

He didn’t know what to do – there was metal everywhere, blood everywhere. If it wasn’t the rod poking through Victor’s lung an inch away from his heart, or the shrapnel burying into his skin in tiny crimson pinpricks, or his crushed leg –

Yuuri blinked his eyes clear, angry at the tears trying to hide Victor from him. Not now, now more than ever. He couldn’t…

Victor’s body shuddered.

Yuuri’s eyes shot wide and he leaned forward, breath catching in his throat as Victor drew a rasp, pained and gasping, into his lungs – he was still alive! His chest barely moved with the breath, sounding weak and broken. Had Victor even got any air from it? The blue tinge to his lips didn’t look too sure.

His eyes fluttered open, looking like it took all Victor’s strength. The once shimmering crystal blue now looked glassy and unfocused, searching through the air like he couldn’t quite find Yuuri’s face above him.

Yuuri found it terrifying.

“Hold on!” he all but begged, feeling tears run thick and shameless down his cheeks. He was all desperate – he didn’t care. “You have to hold on. It’s just a scratch. It’s nothing...”

_Just a scratch…_

The more Yuuri looked, the more he saw. Blood leaked relentlessly from the metal spearing through Victor’s lungs and Yuuri noticed a shred of wood embedded in his Captain’s side too that he hadn’t seen before, skewering him impossibly to the wreckage. He was stuck. Yuuri couldn’t move him without tearing him apart. A _scratch_ ….

Yuuri’s fingers found Victor’s, clutching on tight.

“You have to hold on for me,” he said, holding Victor’s swaying blue gaze. They looked duller now - still moving - but the sparkle was diming, fading… “You have to. We have so much we still need to do together.”

Victor’s fingers twitched around his.

“You have to meet my parents...”

A hitched breath gurled through Victor’s lungs, a bubbling thin line of crimson running from the corner of his mouth.

“I was going to ask you to marry me,” Yuuri choked, his voice finally breaking at the last note. He was ashamed of it, itching to bow his head in shame but he didn’t dare take his eyes off Victor for a second, blinking away the traitorous tears that tried to hide him from view. “I-I got the rings and everything...”

He didn’t realise his hands were shaking until they reached into the collar of his shirt and his fingers did nothing but scramble at the slippery surface of the rings for all their trembling, metal sliding out of his grasp. The skin of his chest felt damp - sweat or blood? Yuuri wasn’t sure. He just bit back his sobs despite the tears leaking freely down his cheeks, lip quivering dangerously like he would crack apart at any moment…

“H-here!”

The chain tangled in his fingers and Yuuri just pulled, too numb to be more precise. He ripped the jewellery out of his shirt, curling his hand into a fist. The two rings glinted in the sunlight as they dangled above Victor, beautiful and mocking.

Below, Victor’s eyes widened.

Yuuri bit his lip against the sob fighting its way up his throat.

He’d wanted so desperately to see that ring on Victor, to see how the gold contrasted with his pale skin, to see how Victor would look at it with fondness and think of him when they couldn’t be together, a good luck charm, a promise…

He still wanted to see that ring on Victor, before it was too late - Yuuri ripped the rings off the chain with more force than necessary, feeling the connections in the necklace break and shatter.

The fragments bit into his skin but Yuuri didn’t care, using the pain to focus himself, to sharpen his mind as he leaned forward and -

-froze.

 _Of course_ , he realised with budding horror, feeling nausea churn in his gut - there was no right hand for Yuuri to put the ring on Victor anymore. Yuuri stared at the stump of Victor’s arm, crushed under the rock, heart thudding miserably in his chest. _This couldn’t be happening_ , he thought, feeling his head start to shake. _It couldn’t..._

“It doesn’t matter,” he just said aloud, not sure if it was for him or for Victor. He blinked the tears away fast, swallowing the thick lump in his throat.

He forced the rings into Victor’s left hand instead - trying to ignore how cold it felt - curling the Captain’s shaky fingers around them and clutching tight. He held on, frightened that if he let go, Victor might too.

“You have to hold on for that,” Yuuri told him, fingers starting to tremble with Victor’s. “You have to. For me. I-I can’t do this without you.”

He couldn’t face it.

He couldn’t imagine himself waking up in a world where Victor wasn’t there anymore, not even to write to or dream about, to never see again… Yuuri’s eyes pressed shut, folding forward over Victor and clinging to the Captain’s loose fist. He would rather die. He would rather let the Titans rampaging through the city crush him and leave him beside Victor. He couldn’t possibly leave him...

“ _Y-Yuuri…_ ”

Yuuri choked out a sob.

Victor sounded quiet - too quiet, like his mouth had barely moved around the words, like it couldn’t… and when Yuuri pulled himself up just enough to see his Captain’s face, his heart nearly stopped dead in his chest. Victor’s lips were blue, parted around shallow breaths that barely moved his chest.

Yuuri sat up, fear gripping him in an instant.

“I’m here,” he sobbed, tears carving tracks through the dirt on Victor’s cheeks as they splashed down on him. “Victor? Victor, I’m right here.”

He had to keep Victor talking, Yuuri told himself, had to keep talking to him. The more Victor talked, the more he could hold on, have something to focus on besides the pain and the seeping blood loss…

“I-it’s okay, I’m here,” Yuuri babbled helplessly. “You’re fine and I’m going to be right here with you the whole time until evac comes.”

Evac weren’t coming.

Yuuri could still hear Titan screams and yells in the distance - all soldier eyes would be watching them, containing the situation. The city didn’t matter until the mission was over. Civilians didn’t matter. Everybody else - Captain Nikiforov included - would have to wait until the dust cleared, would have to hold on.

Victor wouldn’t wait that long - _couldn’t_! Yuuri could see it in the chalk shade to his skin, in his wide but unseeing blue eyes, in his parted lips, barely able to choke out a breath let alone a word. Victor’s body shuddered. Blood splattering out his mouth and stained his blue lips, wide eyes sparkling with tears that leaked down the sides of his face as they stared up at the sky over Yuuri’s shoulder, glittering with terror like Yuuri had never seen.

He knew it too. He had to.

Yuuri’s hand tightened around Victor’s, feeling the tension still fighting to keep his own fingers closed, to hold the rings himself.

Yuuri didn’t need to hear the words anymore.

They were nothing - such a useless thing for him to have walked out over when he should have just dropped to his knees that last day in Victor’s office and asked the Captain to have the rest of his life, no matter how short it might be. It might have changed something. It might have kept him away from the city. It might have saved his arm. It might have saved his _life_ \- instead of Victor clinging to the last shreds of it to hold onto the promise that Yuuri had never gotten to ask but that they both knew the answer to.

But then more blood choked out of Victor’s mouth and his hand spasmed. Yuuri wouldn’t hear those words. It was too late.

For both of them.

“Y-Yuu…”

Victor’s fingers went slack.

 

* * *

 

Three years later, the sun rose bright over the ridge of Wall Maria, the badge of the survey corps weighing heavy on Yuuri Katsuki’s chest as he surveyed the convoy around him. Horses and men, carts and wagons – all ready to race out over Titan terrain and take something new back, to reclaim their world piece by piece. His sharp brown eyes narrowed at the gate standing between them and the open green that the Titan’s roamed beyond, fingers tight around the reins of his horse.

He was ready.

 _Almost_.

His right hand uncurled from his reins, fingers tucked into a loose fist as he held it up to his face, eyes never once leaving the gate. _Any minute now_ , he thought. Any minute and the commander would give the order, the gate would rise, and they would rise out to glory or oblivion.

Yuuri didn’t have a preference anymore.

_Not after Stohess._

They’d claimed a wall back since then. The small army of Survey Corps sat in the remnants of Yuuri’s old childhood town waiting to go out and make humanity proud, but Yuuri was numb to it all. Who did he have to celebrate with? Who did he have to share the newfound freedom they bought?

 _Nobody_.

His lips parted slowly, pouting carefully around a kiss to the solid gold ring around his right ring finger – the same one that had hung around his neck all those years ago.

“Captain?”

The soldier to his left stared at him, knuckles white from gripping the reins so hard.

Yuuri’s eyes glanced over the boy’s belt out of instinct - there was a fuel canister missing, most likely forgotten out of nerves. Yuuri made a mental note to watch out for him in case things turned sour - just like Victor had done for him all those years ago.

His fist clenched harder as he thought of his former Captain – and would-be husband. In another life, they would have married…

As it was, Yuuri wore his ring alone.

Its twin was buried six feet under – with Victor. Nobody had dared take it away from the body when they’d laid him to rest.

Victor was still with Yuuri in more than just the ring; he was in the silver of his slicing blade, in every drop of blood he spilled, in every life Yuuri helped to save... every mission Yuuri wondered if it would be the one that would bring them back together again, reunite him with Victor in the next world when his last living breath left his lips. It might be this one. It might be his last sunrise.

His head turned forward, letting such thoughts come and go like trickling water, washing over him but not lingering. He couldn’t afford to let it linger. If he met Victor in the next life, the former Captain would be furious that Yuuri got there from being too distracted daydreaming about him.

Instead, Yuuri just watched the colours spill over the sky solemnly, pressing one more lingering kiss to his ring for good luck.

“I’m with you,” he whispered, lips barely moving around the words, voice silent to all but himself. “I love you.”

He’d hear Victor say it one day. He held onto that.

His fingers curled back around his reins to the thought, nudging his horse forward through the crowd. Ahead, the Commander’s arm shot upright.

The gate groaned as it lifted.

Yuuri gathered the last of his strength, letting it harden his skin and his spirit, face drawn tight and eyes narrowing. He wasn’t afraid. Captain Katsuki didn’t have anything to be frightened of anymore, lifting his voice above the nervous clatter of hooves and mutters. “Move out!”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry (totally not sorry)
> 
> FYI the reason the tags were not updated sooner were because I didn’t really plan the ending beforehand. It just came out as I wrote it. Honestly I didn’t know if I was gonna kill Yuuri or Victor until I was actually writing the last chapter so I updated as best I could with the hole I’d dug myself. 
> 
> So Yuuri's Captain now, battling on and keeping the memory of Victor alive in his long tortured soul... I am totally not up to date on AOT beyond the anime season 2 so not sure what the AOT world looks like three years down the line in the manga (if its gotten that far, not sure..) I totally made it up. Hope its not too disgraceful to the original story.
> 
> I hope this is okay. Honestly, I wrote this at the end of my internet abstinence and had gone a bit mad by this point. Couldn't bear to proof read it at the moment. I spent so many hours on this that honestly I can't bear it anymore. Let me know if there's any glaring mistakes (or if it's totally unreadable too...)
> 
> So this is done now. I haven't fully decided on what to write next tbh so feel free to come shout at me on [Tumblr](https://justrae2010.tumblr.com/) with any ideas, requests, or abuse at my cold-heartedness. No hard feelings. I know not everybody will swing for this finale and some would rather I swing instead. 
> 
> I hope everyone read the new tags before reading....

**Author's Note:**

> Saw this picture and omg, my heart melted! Go check it out [here](http://doodle-booty.tumblr.com/post/159725873381/i-forgot-how-much-i-used-to-love-snk-so-heres-a)
> 
> Keep tabs on my tumblr [here](https://justrae2010.tumblr.com/) and check out my other YOI fics [here](http://archiveofourown.org/users/justrae2010/pseuds/justrae2010)
> 
> Please drop a comment before you go !
> 
> Hope you liked it!


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